Twe, get the brooms....

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold on a mother fucking minute. Fred Durst, former Limp Dilznik front man just directed the new Ice Cube movie? Are you fucking kididng me? I thought the 'Are we...yet' series was bad enough. But...seriously? Dred Furst?
I suppose Kiss was speaking only of Right Coast cats when he said Gangsters don't die - they get chubby and move to Miami. Is Cube really doing a movie with the biggest tool NOT named Gay Aikman? Horseshit! Mierda! I guess the Predator really is dead. Today is not a good day...

Reflectional morningSTAR....

For some odd reason, I’m feeling very nostalgic at this point. I don’t know if it’s my pending 25th berfday or something else. Right now though I’m thinking about my family and the state we’re in.
See, this past summer, the baby of the family graduated from high school. Good, great, grand. But go back and read that first sentence. The baby graduated. I speak not in shock of her graduation. But of the fact that the baby is done. I mean, these people have had an impact on our collective lives since 1987.
I can’t recall my first day of kindergarten in the late summer of that year. But I do remember some of the next few years on the playground at E-Town Elementary. I remember the jump ropes. I remember the games of tag. I remember the days we were give footballs to toss around. I remember the kids I was with. i remember the fights I got in, first on my own then with or because of my brother.
He and I had a couple years together of elementary school. But that was it. after that, each of us were on our own. Well not really. We used to share a room and I was such a bitch. We used to fight every morning, mainly cuz I’m a moody bitch – and still am. My baby sister and I never got to share a school building. I moved on to 6th grade when she was three years old. So I can’t tell you about us walking up the hill from the school to our house. Or fucking with the crossing guard on 6th St. (I wonder if she’s still alive. Follow up: I wonder if the old man who drove my bus in middle school is still alive. IDK which was more crotchety. I think they’re tied.)
What I can tell you about both of their educational careers though, is that I always used them as an excuse. After I graduated, I relished the chance to go pick one of them up at school. I loved talking with my old teachers – well two at least. I guess it was a cushion for me. I felt that they understood me. They would get that I was the kid who had to go because I outgrew the pond when I was like 5. I needed the ocean. But I also needed to swim back into the pond every now and then.
Part of that feels like it’s gone for me. Not that I had been taking advantage over the last couple years that I’ve been working. But it was there. plus, I’d go see Chee Chee playing ball and act like the cool older brother. BIG emphasis on the act part. But it was fun being the cool older guy coming back to impart wisdom on the kids. Kinda like a drunken Moses returning to the mountaintop to teach the white kids what ‘joder’ means. Random things of that ilk.
Well in the coming days, she’ll start at a Penn State satellite campus not too far from home. It’s the one everyone referred to as EF 13th grade (EF being the name of our school district). There’s nothing wrong with that, she’s just gotta figure out her ish. Morty is starting a new chapter too. He’s going to start at Pitt’s main campus this fall. He just moved out the house and into his first apartment. I’ve been to neither of those places before. No one knows me as the psycho who came first. I’m just some random chubby white kid with a baseless pimp walk who talks funny.

Checkin In....

So...yeah. That's pretty much how ish has been going. I been checking in daily to see if Barnes is posting, then intending to write him nasty emails when he hasn't. But I been neglecting my peoples as well yo...
Last weekend was Amor's berfday and I think a good time was had by all. I threw her a little surprise joint on Friday night. I was happy that she had people from school, people from home and friends of mines in attendance. It encapsulated her entire life. I kinda wish I'da rolled through with a Foley-esque This Is Your Life segment. But that mighta felt a lil too forced or suttin...
Now I feel like I haven't seen her since. I been crazy swamped at work. She's been going to class in the A and workin in the P. Never the twain shall meet. It's all good though. She's gettin back into her routine. Senior year of school and whatnot. And this guy is fitna head out on the road to see the countryside while erecting various places for you sustenanical pleasures. (Okay, maybe I made that word up, but fuck it...)
Oh and last weekend was the blues festival, jam, giant, weekend-long concert that we hooked the tickets up for in January. He had a blast. I became a rockstar for said random act of kindness. (I know what you're thinking, 'Geez STAR - save a back pat for us. Well I swear I wasn't tooting my horn, just telling a story yo.) He met some great people. Got some good stories from a weekend of debauchery. Made some connects. And mighta gotten a few gigs out of it. Big ups to ya, Pops. Do the damn thing.
As for me? Hustlin get my grinds on - cuz one day I'ma get my shines on. I ain spoken to Chee, Morty or Migg in a minute. I completely neglected my duties to Fly and the Hitterz. (Shameless plug #3 - www.latehitz.com - I got a new article coming out Monday [???]. Pass by check it out click on an ad and help a dude get some fucking ad money.) Most importantly I haven't seen Mi Amor since Monday. So I'm awaiting her return from her new financial enabler - aka bullshit mall job. Gotta love those right?
I been getting my create-o on, doing some writing nights before I go to bed. I got a new beginning for Life + Times aka the sequel to A Week Ago. I think it's a pretty dope scene. But I assure you it won't see the light of day for a hot minute. I gotta figure out some of details to it. I'm feelin good about it tho yo. Plus, I gotta get through like 3 things before I can really hammer out the details on that one - and even then I gotta finish another 2-3 before I can start shooting. I own Morty our joint before I finish my trilogy. Needy mother fucker....
Also, I gotta get the budget together for AWA. I need B and Don Carmine's collective input to pull that one off. Cuz this guy? He has no idea how much a movie costs. Though according to Bowfinger every movie costs $2,176.34. Before the net gross deduction in tax finance disbursement readjustment. So I might use that as a soft number and let it grow from there.
Ohandbytheway, I still got the UCB joint coming up on Sept 21st. (That makes 2 shameless plugs in my corner of the interweb.) So I get to get my improv on and show all these mother fuckers that not only can I come up with some insane shit. I can do it off the top of my head. And I could also probably do it off the top of my head and make you cry. Just cuz...EGO. Out. HAHAHA.

Wu U

Now that I'm on the right path and getting my 'on the road' monies from work, I decided I want to do things the right way this time around. And my the right way, I mean make a budget - figure out my daily expenses and coordinate my monthly bills. Then factor in pulling some money out for 'entertainment'. This of course is in opposition to what I did when I first started working and making money. Which consisted of Champagne fueled rampages at black jack tables, followed by all night parties with girls named Destiny, Coco, Peaches and other things of that ilk. Then it turned into $500 nights on the town, once I started to 'settle down' with amor.
Then came the 'rough times'. Student loans kicked in and after I paid rent and my loans, I was going to have something in the vicinity of $4.73 to live off for the month. (Maybe I'm exaggerating, but this whole story is one giant hyperbole at this point.) So things slowed down. And boy are they right when they talked about the stress that not having money can put on a relationship. Me and Amor are not married, but spending 90% of your free moments together starts to turn into crossing the Atlantic on a dinghy with no erotica when you can't afford to go out, eat like royalty then drink the night away. So we had some ups and downs. And I in general felt like dog shit because I couldn't afford to take my woman out for a nice meal at a sensible price.
But now as previously stated, 'I'm paid, I'm paid, I'm got it made in the shade'. (Sorry I wasn't tryin to rub it in, I just wanted you guys to start thinking about Chappelle's Show.) So I have been thinking of - how do white people call it? - making my money work for me. Something like that. I want to take on a couple of investments. Yea, I have a lot of student loans, but I also have a good base salary and that road money is nice.
So I'm looking at having a surplus and I want to do the right thing with it. I intend to pay down the student loans significantly but I also wanna start having some holdings for the future. So I went to the bank yesterday and to speak to the money man. (Much to my chagrin - he wasn't wearing a green suit with diamond encrusted $'s on it. Then I remembered he was a financial planner, not a pimp.) So he's sitting going over my finances and we're talking about my expenditures. Then we start talking about investment opportunities ranging from savings accounts to stock ownership. And as he's going through the different levels, all I can think of is Wu Tang investments' motto - Diversify yo' bonds, nigga...
So thank you Dave Chappelle. If it weren't for you, this wanna be G would just have his cash in an envelope under the mattress. Now I know to put 20% into something liquid, 20% into something risky and the remaining 60% into some things with varying RORs. I spit 'ot fiyah!

Double Stubble Toil + Trouble

The New York Jets made themselves relevant in the football world last night by acquiring quarterback Brett Favre. The move sends a 4th round draft pick to the Green Bay Packers. With escalators, it could easily become a 2nd rounder. If the earth opens and heaven falls to the ground (Favre takes 80% of snaps + Jets make the Super Bowl), it becomes a first round pick.
First, I'd like to let everyone know that Diddy is going to be okay. He drank himself into a stupor last night upon hearing the news (What's that - he was already in a stupor? Well he'll go for the hight score when he hears this...).
Beyond that, the Jets have now vastly improved their three yards and a cloud of dust passing game for something with a little more weight to it. Gang Green's receiving corps, led by Laveranues Coles, Jerricho Cotchery and David Clowney (Seriously?), was awaken this morning and told to just start running wind sprints. Precise route running drills will no longer be emphasized. Instead, the wide outs will be working on their ability to chase chickens - which will then be fed to D'Brickashaw Ferguson in hopes he won't make weight and the Jets will be able to cuz him at no extra cost to themselves.
The current Jets QBs were not quite as excited with the news of Favre's impending arrival. Though Kellen Clemens noted that if he turns into an errant pass throwing, sandlot style quarterback, he'll have good reason - other than Fuck Chad Pennington.
All of this will be rendered moot when Favre suffers what I'm sure will be a catastrophic injury, further perpetuating the Madden Cover Boy Myth. I can only imagine John Madden's last moments, were that to happen. I think it would end similar to Colonel Markinson in A Few Good Men - including the haircut and glasses, but with a Brett Favre SB XXXI jersey instead of a military uniform.

Almost. There.

I do have to admit that I was right. But I also have to take the fall for being somewhat off…for weeks, months, IDK how long I’ve been touting the fact that LeBron was headed out of Cleveland. At first I figured he was headed for the New York Knickerbockers. I know that an atrocity they’ve been for a while now, but they had positioned themselves to have a shitload of money coming off the books in time for his impending free agency. I thought the notion of playing in the Garden, the mecca of hoops around the world, would be enough to entice him to make the switch.
Then I changed my tune when I learned of his ‘close’ relationship with Jay Z. when Bron is available, the Nets should be prepping to enter into their new downtown Brooklyn digs. I surmised Jay could offer LBJ enough in terms of a contract, exposure and marketing tie-ins to make him just a lucrative as Michael – though not quite on Tiger’s level. I assumed playing for black NY out in Brooklyn in the Carter Center would fit the bill for the impending Global Icon and be enough to sway him from the lure of the world’s most famous arena. (I say black NY cuz if/when Jigga opens the joint out in Brooklyn, tell me how many white people are going to head out there to see them? This team rightfully should cater to a different community than the Knicks. Why go head to head when you can’t replicate the MSG experience? Make it about the fans and get a different ‘demographic’ [read: blacks and people of any race who have been priced out of the Garden.])
Now I am again altering cleffs. With the recent ‘trend’ of guys headed to Europe, I figure the allure of the game will keep calling James’ name. (And by trend I mean that Josh Childress just signed for roughly $30M AFTER taxes.) So let’s run down what Bronnie can do across the pond. He’s gotta be good for some ludicrious amount of money per year – forty-fifty million? He’ll play to a packed house every night and bring the game to a whole new audience, give the Europeans a different view of basketball.
The last of which brings me to my biggest point. King James said years ago that he aspires to be a Global Icon. What better way to do it than take your game on tour? how else could he do it? The Globetrotters? This ain’ the 50s. Dwight Howard didn’t go to Kansas for a year then start whistling Sweet Georgia Brown before hitting the Ell. (Not to diss the HGT. they’ve served their purpose, but they’re more show than game. LeBron would probably want more game than show.) So now I think he’ll hike across the pond after his contract expires in 2010. He can play there for say two years, the culmination of which will be the 2012 Olympics – in Europe – and his Leer Jet can stop off in Great Britain while on his way to Brooklyn to play to a packed house for Hov’s Nets.

Lemme Put You on the Game...

Fly has a new joint in cyberspace. It's a veritable wonderland of random sophomoric topics - ranging from sports + entertainment to general college life. I highly suggest it for those of you who enjoy what springs forth here in my corner of the interweb. I'm also a contributor, see if you can guess which...Any rate, peep it and go back often so as to drive up their ad revenue. HOLLA...

http://latehitz.proboards101.com/index.cgi

God I Hate Lil Wayne...

I hate to say that. Maybe I don't really hate him, I'm just kinda disappointed. He seems to be filled with such potential. But he always falls short for me. I remember him when he was like 13 in the old Hot Boyz shit. (Everytime I come around, you see me Bling Bling.) I remember getting my hands on pieces of Carter I and was semi-impressed.
So I went out and bought Carter II. I was completely disappointed. The only thing I found that I could listen to again was Hustla Muzik. At first, I liked Best Rapper Alive. I thought the Fly In was pretty cool. But after a re-listen, I couldn’t get with ‘em anymore. I guess I kinda put Weezy F Baby, please say the mother fuckin Baby on my pay no mind list. I never meant any disrespect to him. I just didn’t see the point in supporting an artist that couldn’t keep me enthralled for the entire second listen, let alone the first.
Well, none of that info stopped me from purchasing Carter III when it dropped. I gave it a first listen and a few things struck me:

~Is he taking a shot a Jay-Z when he says ‘two words you’ll never hear are Wayne quit.’ ???
~Why did he do a song with Fabo + Juelz? I asked Diddy and he said it was 2002, didn’t I get the memo. To which I replied no, I need to put those 50-70 lbs back on. He retorted that his liver is not in its '02 condition. Cirrhosis is a wonderful thing...
~Why does he pretend to be an alien in Phone Hom’? And why does my version have a contracted E?
~I was pretty impressed by the fact that the song 3-Peat was all one verse and fairly well crafted.

I guess my next part of the last item speaks to a larger issue. I think that opening verse is pretty creative, well crafted and well delivered. But he does the same thing over and over. Every song comes up being the same. It’s him saying shit like, ‘I don’t owe you like two vowels’. Witty, crafty, flipped scripts by the dozens. But there’s no content to his rhymes. I’m blanking now on which song it was, but there was only one record which I could tell you what the joint was about. Other than that it was Weezy being Weezy. (Something which I think Kanye does just as well, 'Tell these bitches like Dorito's that's notcho cheese')
Now I suppose I shouldn’t complain. He’s not stuck in that one track shit that’s killed too many artists. He doesn’t just rap about living in the streets and selling drugs. He is creative and smart with his wordplay. But there’s no substance.
By and large I enjoyed Carter III for its creativity. But Weeze ain’ the BRA. I still say that title belongs to Donda West’s son. Weezy is nice for a change and a step in a good direction away from thug life, back to the fun ish that was what hip hop was intended to be. He’s like the Sugarhill Gang for a new millennia. Like I said, I’m not knocking Wayne. I just think he has his place in this world. And it’s not the BRA.

Darlin I Love Ya but Gimme Park Avenue

Urban chic has taken a new and awkward step I must say. I saw this in the paper a few weeks ago and thought to myself, there’s no way anyone with any self respect in this big money town would dress like this. But strolling along 5th Ave daily, I must admit I was terribly, terribly wrong.
I’m speaking of course about dressing like farmers. Apparently it’s hip for the ladies to wear high rise jean shorts and plaid shirts with kitschy little sneakers. I saw a guy with a plaid shirt, nuthugger jeans cuffed like capris and the same kitschy little sneakers. I’m going to assume he was gay cuz of his mannerisms, but the same sneakers thing was kinda awkward.
It doesn’t make any sense to me. I doubt these people would even have a balcony ‘garden’ let alone tend to fields from dawn til dusk daily, with the onliest reward being the ability to feed one’s family for free. I love how the trend setters can take mundane everyday items and turn them into the hottest new fashions. I guess after the swing kids movement and the urban cowboy shit, city bumpkins is the logical evolution. I guess I just don’t care about fashion enough.
I just can’t wait for us to make the Seinfeldian transition to the single piece silver jumpsuit with the big vee on it and matching boots. It’ll be like Mork + Mindy were the only ones who got the ‘future’ right. But with all the coke Robin Williams was doing, I’m not surprised he could see into the future. I only hope that everyone need not wear his same sweater on a daily basis.

Mom, Please Don't Read This...

This is not for the faint of heart.



If you have an active, vivid imagination - the kind where you read something and get pictures of it - don't read on.



If you share chromosomes with me or are involved with anyone whom shares chromosomes with me - don't read on.



Don't say I didn't warn you, fucker...




Did you ever put on some erotica and the girl comes out and you're like, 'aw - she's cute...'? Then she looks sweetly into the camera. And they have her made up to look real. Like a woman you could meet on the street - not like something out of those Jenna Jameson Vivid movies where she's fighting for interstellar peace by fucking aliens and shit...She's got a twinkle in her eye cuz there's a million lights on her. You can tell she's got no bra on. She takes her top off. Then some more clothing gets shedded. It's like you're having your own private show. You half expect her to lean over and go, 'so you from around here or just here on business?' She seems so sweet and innocent. And everything has begun innocuously enough.
Then like 20 minutes later, she's getting DP'd by two $5 footlongs (5-5-5-dollar footlongs, thank you Jared strategy team. I can't wait to see the first movie company to use that title...) Next thing you know, Meatball Marinara + Italian BMT both finish in her hidden hole. Then she gets up and drips both back out onto the floor. And all of a sudden you've had a life-altering moment? You don't know what you just saw. But you hit rewind, kinda like slowing down for an accident on 78 where both cars on laying in the grass in the middle, two pieces of twisted metal and you just know that someone's ambulance isn't pulling out with sirens.
Yea, me neither....