2.27.2008

BUNCOCKY EPISODE 2




We go over five more questions / The exciting conclusion of the Nutrament diet / Lack of Netflix, plus Night Court and Roll Bounce talk / We interview our friend Gravedigger Jay / Why is baseball so boring yet we still watch it?


***the first 30 seconds of the Netflix segment were cut off. You just missed us talking about being too lazy to put an envelope in the mail box***


Also, Jay was talking way too loud in the mic so its a bit fuzzy in spots. I think this one is waaaaaaaaaay funnier than the first one. The interview is mmm ammmaaazzzzing.



OH, i hate to be a douche and ask such a thing, but Jay is concerned with people voting, so if you can just click on the rate file star thing and rate honestly, that'd be super.





it's the hate of the month get up get up get up: THE DUMPIN BLOG OTHER FUCKERS WHO ARE SUPPOSED TO WRITE THIS BULLSHIT

Frist off (I was gonna correct my spelling, but I'd like to think that former faggassee Senator Dr. Bill Frist was a straight up dude), I should preface my complaining about other contribudores to this site by saying if there was no you, random internet faceless statcounter number, there would be no us. We appreciate each and every unique one of you, especially when you have looked up something warped like pissing in your daughter's mouth or your wife Michelle getting fucked in the next room to get here. We hope that once you come, you'll take a look around, and stay. We don't really have anything to sell, so there's no profit motive, so I guess basically we're esteem-deficient losers who feel better about our hopeless futures when fuckfaces like you drum up our daily stats on the internets.
So now, let us talk of the lack of activity (aka lacktivity, not to be confused with titfeeding) going on around here. We had mentioned, or I did, that the EWA was probably dead, but then it wasn't because we changed the rules for how we do it, thanks to that dude John. Except nobody done it since we changed it. And I'm being a petty fag where I don't write shit if nobody else will because I think everybody's heard enough of my stupid shit for two lifetimes on the internets. John is awol, probably on some serious shit, so I do not fault him at all. But that BWT dude shows up in the EWA Clubhouse like once every two weeks to be like, "Yo the new Clipse mixtape is crazy bonkers, I'mma write shit on Thursday my day off," then nobody sees him for two more weeks. I am not sure what goes on with Keenon, and he has been with the EWA dorkrod posse forever, and I know he DJs in the real lifes, so I would give him a pass. Except I see him posting all over stupid ass fuckface message boards, and what the fuck is a blog except feeling so self-important about your stupid assed endless message board postings that you decide to accumulate them all in one place, with labels to make for meme-following easy action? I figure one hour wasted on a shitty message board should equal two stupid fucking blog posts.
Non-EWA dumpin posters have slacked too. I guess Jay Pud has his own blog, which I've forgotten to check at all since the first week, mostly because he made me start masturbating about Rachel Ray all the time. Before his blog, I thought I was a solitary freak, but he opened my eyes, so I have embraced my lust for that bitch. You know they had some new chick on Saturday Night Lifes last week, and she did a Rachel Ray character briefly, tits all about to pop out her top, maniacal grin. I like that Rachel Ray's stereotype is for her tits to be about to pop out. I bet she likes that too, old ass mid-life crisis pudge belly slut. (If you are crazy ego-driven and google yourself, my bad Rach, I'm just saying that shit for our shitty fuckers who read this shit, trying to seem like I'm all hard. I'm a nice guy and my dick's not the biggest, but it looks good in Polaroids and I am a great cunninglinguster, although to be honest, while doing that I'll probably lift your legs up and flick your ass too to gauge your reaction, then lick that, but not because I like tasting ass but because I am deprecating myself to lay the groundwork for stuffing my penis into your ass. I like that for some reason with strange women; I think there's animalistic dominance issues going on, which would make sense with some of the other issues I have going on. But hit me up if you read this and you're ever in Virginia - tongueplusdickplusfingerequals16inches@gmail.com.)
I do not know what happened to Diora. I never would have expected porn-related things to be boring, but asking that one slut questions, but nothing porn-related, that was a weird ass thing. I should mention I do not trust porn because I think it's a giant conspiracy by reverse jews to make us all gay, because it's always dudes standing around together training some chick with no respect for her, and the only love they show is to each other. I read somewhere recently about there being feminist porn coming out now, but usually feminist porn goes by the definition of feminism that goes roughly, "Oh yeah? You wanna fuck with us? Well check this out..." where they fuck with we. Why can't there be some sweet nice mutually pleasurable porn that a family can sit down together at Sunday dinner and watch? I have three daughters and the fact that they will in all likelihood date someone who knows the term "Dirty Sanchez" makes me want to scrape the outer layer of the earth off with homemade cluster bombs. Apparently Mike also added some dude to the dumpin blog who is a black dude friend of Diora's who reviews porn tapes, but unless he's like Chris Nieratko from the hood, then fuck that shit. Although I reserve the right to enjoy whatever he does and act like I was down from the get-go.
I had, like three days ago, realized my inner-gangsta while watching Get Rich or Die Trying, and I had planned on making mention how when you see DUMPIN.NET, in your mind I know you are thinking out "dumpin dot net" but I wanted you to understand it was "dumpin bullethole net" because that's how hard shit is around here. But it's not hard. It's a bunch of pussy faggots who don't write shit in the robot internet land of pussy faggotry, so then stupid ass fuckface me comes along and goes, "I'll make a quick hate post" and then I talk forever about nothing in particular. So from now on, when your eyes cross that "DUMPIN.NET" and your mind makes the words play out for your brain to comprehend and shit, take a pause, and re-train yourself to say "dumpin pussyhole net" because that's what this place is. (Also, the idea of a pussyhole net is intriguing to me, like a net that only captured the valuable parts of women while letting the rest pass on by. I may have accidentally unearthed gold with that idea. I should start making some initial sketches.)

2.26.2008

grumble grumble grumble: STUPID FANTASY BASEBALL

Last year we had a fantastical baseball thing and it was the first time I ever did it. It's hard for me to support regular baseball, being it's a long boring white ass game for people too stupid to understand golf, and even if I was completely hyped beyond control, I could barely watch two innings of a stupid baseball game. But nerds keep it going, and most sports editors are nerds, so newspapers pretend people still care even though they don't, when most people would rather see some mixed martial artist faggot coverage or soccer or mock drafts than even one fucking baseball story.
I didn't watch any baseball last year, at all, and still finished third in the thing because it's nerd shit and all you need to do is be an asshole about numbers. I shudder to think of people actually sitting around doing fantasy drafts with homemade jerseys of their fake teams. If you do that type of thing, whatever, to each his own. But you have no right to make fun of real dolls or furries or really anything. I would feel more comfortable pounding some brews with a dude talking about how real his real doll is than a guy talking my ear off about his fantasy team.
Anyways, we have a stupid fantasy league set up, but it's important you're not a fag about this type of thing. No fantasy fags are allowed, but last year Mike secretly had two teams, leading me to think he might be in the closet when it comes to baseball dorkery. But you, random internet homo, are welcome to join. I know you want to because you are the internet most likely reading about rap dork shit, so you are probably obsessive compulsive and feel that misunderstood genius thing in your real life, like people around you in real life don't understand the true awesomeness of indy rap or something, and that misunderstood genius Napoleonic complex of a psychological variety is a key demographic of the fantasy baseball fuckface. So point your semen-coated little optical mouse to the stupid yahoo fantasy sports webpage (you ought to be able to find that bullshit yourself) and click the join a league bullshit. Our league number is 121090 and the password is juicyone. Because I got one juicy dick for you fantasy baseball fags to use your mouth as a holster for.

MY TRIP TO THE BIG APPLE



WARNING: This is like the worst, most typical bullshit blog post ever. I just have nothing else exciting to write about yet. In better news, we are recording episode 2 of the podcast tonight! -- Mike

I went to nyc this weekend to hang out with my friend Sawyer and do some "I got my tax return and I'm hood rich" shopping. My first stop was See Hear, this zine store I remember from way back when zines were still thriving and stores could actually function selling them (so basically, before the internet ruined everything). They are apparently closed down, Which i Was half expecting, but the internet info about it being opened seemed pretty up to date, so that was a bummer.


Then I hit up Kim's Video looking for the one TV Carnage DVD I don't own (If you haven't checked out TV Carnage by now, you're wasting your life.), but they didn't have it because they're fuckers. Their record selection was also not doing anything for me. NYC has this trend of, no matter how stupid and worthless the record is in real life, if it's something a hip dork will want to listen to, it will be an insane amount of money. They had a used Jimmy Smith record I should have picked up in retrospect, but it was $9, which is a fair price, but judging how other stuff was priced, I just kind of assumed it was probably scratched to shit, and the condition of the cover made it seem like that was probably the case.


THEN I went to Other Music, which is a record store you may have heard of, as it has some sort of indie credibility for being a place that happens to have a decent selection of oddball indie music amongst other things, and the store is really kind of worthless ever since I stopped buying CDs, because their vinyl is overpriced, but this one time 7 years ago I found Pharcyde's "Bizarre Ride II The Pharcyde" on double colored vinyl for $9 (and it holds a special place in my heart because it's where i bought the Quasimoto CD for the first time), so I still go there and normally always leave empty handed. This time was no different as far as their normal music selection was concerned, BUT they had a free box in front of the store with a bunch of rap 12"s in it. I was going to grab a chunk of them before I left but Sawyer beat me to it and was waiting outside already because he hates that store with a passion (I don't really blame him), but he ended up giving them all to me (plus the 4 I grabbed) because he didn't feel like carrying them, and he's not all that into rap music and I had a record bag with me already, so here's what I got:


Disturbing Tha Peace - Golden Grain (I will never listen to this)

Petey Pablo - Freak A Leak 12"

Ludacris - Chicken N Beer (I might listen to this)

Juelz Santana - From Me To U (almost a score)

Nas - Thiefs Theme 12"

Yin Yang Twins - Naggin 12"

Lil Wayne - Go DJ 12"

Clipse - Grindin 12" (I think i already own this)

Yung Jeezy - Thug Motivation (This would be a score if i didnt hate yung jeezy)

Twisted Black - Throw It UP 12"

Grit Boys - Fresh 12" (I hope this is the song im thinking of, that had a real stupid video)

Pitbull - sticky icky 12"

THEN we went to Generations, which is a mostly hardcore/metal/punk record store and another spot that's become useless to me since I stopped buying CDs, but they have a decent record selection except their new records are usually obnoxiously overpriced. They had the Billy Jack soundtrack for $2, but it was beat to shit, and I don't really need the Billy Jack soundtrack that bad. They also had the soundtrack to ROOTS, and I thought it was pretty funny ROOTS had a soundtrack you could buy. I bought the Anti-Matter book, which is a book collecting the interviews from this old hardcore zine called Anti-Matter. I'm sure you don't care.

Finally, I went to Fat Beats. not the original Brooklyn one, but the one in Manhattan. This was my first time going to Fat Beats (I know, I'm SUCH a poser never making the pilgrimage to the almighty Fat Beats), because usually when a store mainly sells rap music and it's famous and on TV and shit it's ALWAYS overpriced, but their prices were shockingly on point. Another funny thing is, anytime they show it on TV, they always make it look really hood, with a bunch of black dudes working there and DJing, but I guess if you go on the days they aren't filming Rap City or an MTV hip hop special there, there's two white rap nerds just like me or you wearing MF Doom t shirts working the counter and listening to J Dilla. I wasn't expecting to buy anything from there because i thought it would be expensive, so I ended up spending way too much unexpected money there that ended the record shopping for the day. I got:

Stark Reality - Now (pumped about this)

EPMD - Unfinished Business (Ravens Mack's favorite rap group. This was sealed and 10.99, so I'm assuming it's a repress, but there's nothing noting it's a repress and who would repress this anyway? Weird. 2.0 Guns n Roses dude)

Quasimoto - The Unseen (Previously owned on CD, but i stupidly let someone use it and never saw it again. I obviously have it in mp3 form, but i'm weird about not owning shit i really, really like, so i bought it.)

Madlib - Beat Konducta in India (I was pumped when I bought this on site, but I completely forgot that the CD version is twice as long, so now I'm kind of upset)

I went pretty Stones Throw crazy I guess. I also got the new issues of Waxpoetics and Stop Smiling. This has to be the most I've spent in real money on new music in one record store in a real fucking long time, which is sad, because it was only 4 records. I remember buying like $100 worth of CDs and records without thinking when I wasn't a grownup and had no bills. I still felt pretty guilty about spending the 50 or so dollars on 4 brand new records because i havent done it in so long.

As much as I love record shopping in THE BIG CITY, I am more of a bargain crate type of guy, and you don't really get that much bargain shopping done. I lucked out with the pile of free records, but like I said earlier, if something becomes hip because it was mentioned in Juno or Wes Anderson was talking about it in an interview or something, it will go immediately from the $1 box to the $10 box. I'm sure there's spots where I could catch a break, but the few I've been too had real serious garbage in their cheap bins. I remember Coney Island being succesful several years back for that sort of thing, but I am not travelling to Coney Island just to buy records. I'm rambling now, but I'm proud of my purchases.


Oh, I also bought my girlfriend expensive perfume because I'm a good boyfriend.

COMING SOON: The most ultimate ridiculous $20 Record Challenge EVERRRRRRR (AKA the least popular gimmick in Dumpin history)

2.21.2008

Better than anything I could write


Some really good samaritan posted a 1975 BBC documentary on the Shaw Brothers on Youtube. He has disabled embedding for some weird reason so you have to click on the links:

PART ONE

PART TWO


PART THREE

If you don't know the Shaw Brothers and their movies, you're probably a jerk (or at least very young).

And yes, if you're wondering, someday I'll get back to writing things as opposed to posting Youtube videos, but I'm working on my stupid podcast amongst other things, and you know how that goes. Well, you probably don't. Basically, Dumpin is like my wife, and my ten thousand other projects are the ladies on the side. I may neglect Dumpin here and there, but I'll always come back to it, even when the other bitches are long gone. It helps that Raven is fucking my figurative wife so hard right now that you barely miss me. For that, I am thankful to him.

dumbass fuckface retard raven hating on shit again like an old man: MY EMPTY PO BOX

So I have to re-up my stupid PO Box, which is lame, because they moved. The old post office was downtown (meaning where the 3 blocks of town are) by the playground near the river so I could take the kids to the park, and walk up and check my po box with some little 1952 looking ass box with a glass window and shit that the key hardly ever worked in, and there were secret "asbestos warning" symbols going into certain parts of the little post office, but it was tight. Some serious ass small town bullshit and whenever we had a baby the post office lady would let us weigh her on the electronic scale and she knew she didn't have to ask me what I was mailing media class because I knew the rules. Plus, when my zine was bumping, they kinda knew any wackass weird boxes they got with odd labelling was probably mine so they'd ask, and I'd always say yes. Usually it was for me though.
Well they moved their shit uptown to the re-stuccod strip mall, and now it's sterile and white and I've got a metal door to look at and open and see there's nothing in the fucker. Plus, it's bigger so they cost me more. Plus, they changed my fucking number too because they don't even go up to my old number no more. It sucks going to the post office now, next door to the liquor store and the Federated Auto Parts, drink machines in effect like mad, and nothing fucking there.
But I am going to pay my bullshit, mostly because I think the internet and blog faggotry is overrated. Plus none of these other faggots other than Mike even want to write shit for the EWA anymore, always popping in to be like, "YO! I'm gonna write some shit this weekend, school and shit..." and never showing back up to write shit. And I don't care enough about any of that crap. The internet seems boring. Downloading naked pics of chicks is not quite as awesome as chicks sending you naked Polaroids of them sitting on their couch, cooch hairs all over the cushions. Those were the good ole days.
Well anyways, I'm scaling back my internetted nonsense because I started a new zine called LOVE LETTER TO MYSELF. I'm getting off this fucker to crack open a 6-pack of Yuengling I had bought to drink with a crazy old dude who lives on the side of a mountain nearby because he had left his glasses at my mom's house, but his gate was all padlocked up like an air force base, and his phone was busy all day long. So I have the whole 6-pack to myself. I will open it and finish this first issue. I won't hyped it here (hah, I probably will next time too, though it won't register with you robots and your keyboard life force tentacle programming hardwiring) all the time and shit, but here's the deal on acquiring it if you would like.
RAVEN MACK PO BOX 270 SCOTTSVILLE, VA 24590 that is the address, and you mail me (if you are an American fucker) three stamps, and one address other than your own. It will only take one stamp to mail, so I'll use one for someone else I know to send it to, one for you, and might send that third one to your second address you give me, or might not. I might mail my Best Buy bill with it. Hard to say. If you are foreign fucker, you figure out your foreign bullshit, and send me 3 pieces of appropriate foriegn mail things, but also go ahead and send me two other addresses, because most likely I don't know foreign fuckers from your land. Eventually, once these are like the greatest kook retard thing ever, and it eventually gets back to the internet how awesome they are, I'll sell back issues for like $10 each plus the three stamps, so you best get the fuck in now.
Also, my post office box is a wacky thing. It loves treasure and kookiness, and usually it forces me to reward by sending wacky shit back. But not always. Also, if you are some random internet dude who I owe something to for some sort of dorkery welching, do not email me about it. I have a hard time connecting internet with real life. Also, I do not care if you think I should mail you one because of some shit you did for me at some point or some money you gave me. This is the internet, and no one here is real. (If you are that dude in Indiana, this doesn't mean you; I'm gonna mail you a bunch of shit as soon as the 8-ball doesn't block my view of paychecks.)

2.20.2008

hate hate hate: THE AMERICAN GANGSTER MOVIE

I got this since it came out this week and I watched it tonight. It was like a really shitty episode of The Wire, except instead of the awesomeness of McNulty, there was some boring ass fuckface Russell Crowe in his place. Also, Denzel Washington should really stop with his "I am Denzel Washington and I am seriously acting, for real," schtick, because that shit is getting tired. It's like he's forgotten how to show any range of emotion. You are a robot internerd fuck, so you've probably already seen this, but in the rare chance you are not completely immersed into popular culture, unless you are the type of person who has no personal ambitions in life and likes to waste every non-employed moment watching bullshit forms of media, you could probably pass on this flick. It's an overrated piece of crap, but it has that "Two major stars plus it's almost 3 hours long" trick to make all the dumbasses around you think it's like the greatest shit since The Godfather.

Buncocky Cast


Me and Jay (Shining White Revue, Dastardly Latchkey) have created a Podcast! We sit around and shoot the shit. this first episode is a little shaky because we're getting the hang of everything, but I still think it's fairly entertaining.

The link below leads to a page where you either have the option of streaming it from the site or just downloading it. The RSS feed hasn't gone through yet, so you can't subscribe just yet, but hopefully within the next 12 hours we get that all situated.

CLICK HERE TO HEAR THE FIRST EPISODE OF BUNCOCKY CAST!!!

Feedback is greatly appreciated.

Also this is our main profile page in case you want to bookmark it. It's the page with the info and all of the episode listings (once there's more than one):

BUNCOCKY MAIN PAGE

2.16.2008

haterz everywhere we go haterz everywhere we go haterz going down for the count: ARMENIANS

I hate Armenians. Not the dead ones from that mysterious genocide nobody wanted to believe in for like a hundred years, but the modern ones that are all hung up on that shit and like, "I AM ARMENIAN, WE ARE LIKE ULTRA-JEWS BECAUSE WE GOT KILLED BUT NOBODY RECOGNIZES OUR PLIGHT, RECOGNIZE MY PLIGHT!" I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for motherfuckers and their trifling ass psychologically-paralyzing plights getting some recognition, but damn, chill the fuck out.
Plus I worked for some Armenians, but they seemed more like just asshole New Yorkers to me, but they had Armenian to them somehow. They sucked. Mike Dikk actually knew one of those dudes too, and it has been a wonderful thing this one kid Mark Telfian (who will surely google search himself and see this) who Mike knew from shithead NY kid hardcore bullshit and I knew from dirtbag Richmond VA housepainter bullshit. Supposedly the kid did a spoken word 7-inch, which is hilarious to me because the Mexicans at work called him "Mongol" for how slow he talked. He also apparently is gay now, which is also funny because his older bros were straight up date-raper types, except I think one of them liked Depeche Mode too, which is always a dead-give-away in a dude for closeted behavior. One time that Depeche Mode liking dude was burning paint off a house with us with a blow torch (dental trimwork had to be stripped of paint and shit) and he had his ladder in a stupid way and fell and landed on a wrought iron rail and caught his shirt on fire. Everybody wanted to laugh their ass but he was the boss, so we had to wait for him to drive off in a frustrated fury and then we all sat around drinking Icehouses and getting our laughs in then.
To me, that little slice of my memory sums up Armenians - full of shit and precariously positioned, with bad taste in music, and apt to look like a goofy fucker much to my amusement. My apologies to all straight up Armenians who aren't complete tools. You should probably start some media-manipulating PR organizations like the Jews did.

2.15.2008

anger hatred: STUCK UP BITCHES AT THE STORE WITH GROCERIES

Don't have much time today but like I have never been in my life attracted to little scrawny weasel face women with dark hair and pale face that scrunch it up because they have like seventeen generations of uptightedness in their DNA. So if I smile at some bitch in the LET'S CHARGE DOUBLE EXTRA FOR FAKE ORGANIC BULLSHIT part of the store, it's because I'm a goofy friendly dude trying to buy some organic milk for my daughters so that bovine hormones don't cause them to have sizable breasts by age 10. I am not flirting with your ugly stupid ass, so don't get all insulted and make mental note of identifying features on me to tell the sketch artist later as you drive off in your fucking Saab paranoid I'm a serial rapist. If your life was not full of so much fear, maybe your face wouldn't be all squeezed together in a constant grimace, and then maybe somebody would try harder to give you an orgasm to calm your fucking ass down a touch.

2.14.2008

A Friendly Game of Fantasy Baseball?

If Raven and I started a stupid fantasy baseball league for this season, would any of you fools be interested? It would be strictly for bragging rights.

I played my first season of fantasy baseball last year, and quite honestly I hated it. It's just something to do while Football is on hiatus though. Plus it's really embarrassing when someones well planned out team loses to my team because my entire strategy is picking guys with names that sound like slang terms for dicks.

Oh, it wouldn't be a live draft either because we aren't fagalas. Save that kind of league for your real life chums.

dumbass hate o' the day: HAVING TO HATE THINGS

It is hard to hate every day, even after one day (but rest assured I hate hate hate everything, especially things about you), and today (which is really yesterday) I was overwhelmed with feelings of enjoy. I had to go buy the shit to eat for my birthday, and I decided to make my wife cook a giant ham which I will glaze with brown sugars (if you know what I mean) when I get home from work, which I will do even though I'm self-employed, mostly because I didn't work the previous 19 days and still need money because the lottery didn't come through (again). I was counting on that shit to pay my credit card bill next week too. Fuck.
Anyways, while at the store, I was mesmerized by 37 flavors of female, which are always great because scientifically 99 out of every 100 females has a vagina (aka yoni), and vaginas (aka yonis) are fucking great. They are great to look at, to touch, to sniff and play with, and especially to prod with my fifth largest appendage (unless my head is an appendage too, but isn't that more like the mainframe of the whole operation? who the fuck knows)... vagin4s are just all-around great fun. I love them. I have actually become ridiculously attracted to chicks just because I imagine they had really cute vaginas. Seriously. LOL, I guess I have a vagina fetish.
I am getting older (turn 35 today, which is tomorrow), and my standards in women have not lowered so much as expanded. The age range has widened greatly, and in fact, I have felt it necessary to dial the lower end up a little bit (being 35 and thinking a 15-year-old is sexy is not a good life habit), and whereas I used to just love certain youthful sluts, I have learned to love the vagina-containing beauty of many different types of women. Being in the grocery store buying a giant ham, I was exposed to many executron womens, those of solid jobs with health benefits who have to buy things for their stupid private school kids and uncaring balding ponytail husband who ain't hitting that shit right. And while unknowingly following behind one chick down the pickle/olive/condiment aisle, I realized a fashion style I love like crazy nowadays - those dressy black pants working chicks wear that look like stretch black yoga pants had sex with thin baggy pants and made an offspring pants. You know what the fuck I'm talking about - they're kinda snug on the ass, but not skintight, and the legs taper out so it's not all wackily yoga pantsish, but it's not bellbottoms or some shit either, very classy. I love the way a properly rounded woman's ass looks in those pants, like two balloons waiting to get clutched and twisted into a giraffe shape, except it won't twist so you just squeeze them and enjoy the slap of your beer belly against the top of their ass, while your swinging open air testicles cook up an extra powerful orgasm. Man, that's some great stuff.
I know this is the internet and some of you are probably not very sexually experienced, but let me assure you that looking at naked chicks is nothing like touching naked chicks. So if you lack sexual experience, lower your standards. Fuck fat chicks or ugly chicks or retarded chicks or fuck... have sex with effeminate dudes. You'd be amazed at how good it feels to have an actual live human being involved in your orgasms.
Anyways, I love those style of pants working women wear, highlighting their round asses of lust induction, and I will tell you women, even though you're probably not reading this and it's just some skeevy dude seeing this instead, I am not afraid to lick your ass, but not because I like that type of stuff, but more because I know you will like it and then I can do other things with you. That's my style - a little give, a little take. Although, it's not you reading this but aforementioned skeevy dudes, so they're all either like, "Ewwww... he'd lick an ass," or they think I have a scat fetish. Fucking fruits.
Ahh... I ended up finding hate after all. The internet is a reverse wonderful place.

2.13.2008

wackass raven mack's hate o' tha day: PAUL SIMON

Mike says I hate everything, but he only knows me through the robotertrons, which filters all my neurological impulses into negative charges, so that's not really fair. But I ain't writing shit else for the stupid internetronics lately, and probably won't, so I'll share my Hate O' Tha Days with you stupid fuckers, and Mike. What else are you gonna do clicking on this shit? You think the mixtape challenge is gonna wrap up? Another EWA? The top 20 stupid jamz ever? Jokes on you jack.

Today, I hate Paul Simon. Not for any of his music, though that Graceland album is like 17 thousand variations of annoying. But he had that "Slip Slidin' Away" song and I had young parents and my mom had an older half-brother who was a biker who had various addictions over the years and could punch through cinderblocks as a bar trick. One time he was visiting and there was an ice storm and I was playing in the snow and he was all drunk and sliding out to his car to drive home (this was the '70s, so people weren't pussies about driving under influences yet), and he almost busted his big biker swastika tattoo forearm ass a couple of times, and as he drove off, he had the windows down since the defrost didn't work probably, and was singing "Slip Slidin' Away" really loud, smiling at me, wearing sunglasses in an ice storm, leaving a young stupid Raven with quite the mentally etched visual while building my snow fort to fight Germans or Iranians or Dr. Hook or whatever stupid shit I fought back then in fake fights in my imagination. So because of that moment and my crazy uncle Ray, I give Paul Simon's music a pass.
But I hate Paul Simon for marrying Edie Brickell and keeping that bitch locked up ever since. When I was 15, I smoked tons of weed, and was into homely looking cute chicks who could sing. One night, this chick Renee gave me a ride home, and she was my boy's girlfriend, but I was way fucked up (weed plus vodka plus pill equals oh shit how did I get here?), so she gave me a ride home, and she sang on the way while I wavered between passed out and almost dead in the passenger seat. Her soft lullaby voice made me really want to rape her when we got to my house, but I was too drunk to pull it off, and nothing sucks more than getting your ass kicked by a chick you're trying to force sex on. Well, Edie Brickell, when she busted out with her New Bohemian buddies, was a similar type of chick. Very hot in the English major future English teacher "let's drink a nice bottle of wine and then you can fuck me in the ass while I growl" type ladies, looking like Simone from Head of the Class, but secretly like any of the 39 porn stars named Simone.
So my destiny at this point was to wander off to college, probably in West Virginia because it's wild and wonderful like me, and Edie Brickell and her New Bohemians would play a show there, and we'd end up meeting and shit and she'd love me because, you know, I'm the shit, and I'd love her, so then I wouldn't have to go to college because I just live off her record sales money and have sex with her and just chill. It was gonna be real chill, and quite the destiny. They didn't have crazy video game consoles where you have to push 19 buttons at once and you can import holographs of yourself into the game at that point, but I'm sure I was counting on playing a lot of Bases Loaded, always beaming that Okonkwo fucker so he'd charge the mound and get ejected.
Then along comes Paul Simon with his 1967 in Central Park strumming guitar ass. And I guess creepy old acoustic guitar professor types are as attractive to future english teacher types as future english teacher types are to young drug and alcohol fueled raven macks, because Edie Brickell married that fucker and is never to be heard from again. I often imagine he and Woody Allen get together to play pinochle, and Edie Brickell and the little chink girl hang out in the kitchen drinking wine together and mixing up an awesome organic greens salad with grilled wild salmon, talking about paint colors for their guest rooms and what type of faux finish they'd like to get. Poor bitches.
So Paul Simon, I hope you get this emailed to you as a link so you can see how you ruined my life. I could've been rich and lazy by now, and probably would be cheating on Edie Brickell with Lucinda Williams who wouldn't mind my heavy drinking as much as well, but you fucked it all up, little man.
(Also, I googled image searched Edie up, and she's homelier than ever, but I imagine living with a worldly musical little NYC troll will cause that in a woman.)

2.11.2008

Random Crap Monday

Jay (Shining White Reuve guy, Dastardly Latchkey) has a friend named Pete, whom I met once briefly and we discussed Wang Chung and their work on the soundtrack to "To LIve And Die in L.A.". Well Pete has made a documentary about forgotten Rockland County NY Thrash Metal band Riphouse. It's having a theatrical premiere in Nyack NY and I figured I should pass on the info just in case you're a) into thrash metal b) near Rockland and c) old enough or nerdy enough to remember Riphouse.



Here you go:



trailer:


Riphouse 151: Could've Been's & Wanna Be's
WORLD PREMIER SCREENING
Thursday March 27th, 2008 7pm
(Riverspace) Helen Hayes Theater
119 Main StreetNyack, NY

$7.00 (All Proceeds go to Charity)


Hit me up if you're actually going. We can meet and rub dicks together.






an INTENSE video from the scummy Maury Povich show:


Here is me SLAMMIN CLUB REMIX of the audio from this video: "I Can't Support It" - Mike Dikk

Video of a child being ruined on Xmas:



Another round of beats has been posted on I HOOK A BEAT UP. I haven't even listened to them, so it will be a couple days until you can read my beautiful words.

2.08.2008

(Failed) $20 Record Challenge


Coincidentally, last weekend I also had dreams of completing another $20 record challenge. I thought there were more record challenges documented on this site, but I guess they were all done on our little message board where we all rub dicks with each other, or maybe one of the other 15 blogs we've put together over the past year.

I went to Armageddon Shop in Providence Rhode Island. I was there about a year ago and picked up some pretty decent stuff in their bargain boxes, and figured it would be pretty easy to clock in another successful Record Challenge. Even moreso when I noticed they reduced their bargain box prices from 10 for $10 to 25 for $10 (or .50 cents each) for LPs and 4 for a dollar 7"s. I was excited about the prospect of exiting the record store with 50 records for $20, but it wasn't meant to be. I ended up picking up 11 records from the .50 cent bins, giving up on looking and grabbing 2 full price records putting my total at $28 and change, completely nullifying the golden rule of the $20 record challenge (don't spend over $20).

I may just be out of practice, or it may be because Armageddon Shop is a small space overflowing with records and the bargain boxes aren't exactly prominently displayed. If you've ever thumbed through a cheap bin at a record store, you should know that they're usually kept in some below eye level spot because it's not like stores make any real money off of bargain shit, so if you're not willing to squat for an hour or sprawl out on a dirty floor, thumbing through dusty old records and sneezing along the way, you're fucked.
It's especially strenuous at Armageddon Shop, because their cheap boxes are stored underneath the shelves of the regular priced stuff in an aisle a little under three feet wide, so not only do you have to squat down or sit in an uncomfortable position, but you have to deal with non-tightwads passing through the aisle looking for real items.
Lastly, I was with my girlfriend and her brother. they're both very understanding of my loser hobby, but I didn't want to waste too much of their time looking for stupid shit, so I sped it up a little. Enough with excuses though, here's what I came out with:

Clockcleaner - Babylon Rules $9.99

Clockcleaner are one of the few current non-rap groups I keep up with. They play noisy Jesus Lizard / Am-rep style music. I'm especially motivated to keep up with them because I recently sold one of their 7"s on Ebay for $40 when I was expecting to get like $5 for it. So now I will buy any of their music on vinyl I see because I am a money grubbing asshole at heart and don't mind flipping a record for 1000% profit every once in a while.

Sun Ra and his Solar Myth Arkestra - The Solar-Myth Approach (vol 2) (reissue) $10.99

I don't pretend to be a big Sun Ra fan or anything. I usually dig whatever tracks Madlib uses in his mixes, but the stuff I hear on my own usually sounds like nonsense to me. I understand the guy has like 400 records and I have no clue as to what his best one is supposed to be. I mainly bought this because I've seen all these Sun Ra reissues pop up, and they're usually like $20 or more, so I bought this one on principal. I have no real reasoning for picking this one over the other 10 they had, outside of this particular title being the only one with the promise of colored vinyl, which is a stupid reason to buy a record anyway. Either way, I'm already over the $20 cut off point two records into this bullshit.

Mr. Mister - Welcome to the Real World .50 cent

I am a big closet queermo, so this was my find of the trip. This is the record with "Broken Wings" on it. If I ever get back into making vinyl mixes, that will be the first track I use, almost guaranteeing no one will ever listen to it, but if Diplo put it on a mix, it would be genius. Fucking asshole hypocrite internet.

Risky Business Soundtrack .50 cent

I mainly bought this because it has a Prince song on it, and I don't ever remember song titles so I thought maybe it was some special Prince song I never heard before, but it's just a song from 1999 that I don't particularly like. I should have known that because I spent 3 hours at work reading Prince's Wikipedia biography and every corresponding record entry at work the day after I watched Purple Rain a few weeks ago. It's not a total loss though, because I enjoy the novelty of owning a record that features songs by Prince, Tangerine Dream, Jeff Beck, Journey and Muddy Waters.

Billy Joel - 52nd Street .50 cent

I hate Billy Joel. Every once in a while I will read an article that makes Billy Joel sound more interesting than he is, but I still have no desire to listen to him. I bought this mainly because I see it all the time in the cheap bins and repetition of things tricks you into buying it, plus maybe there will be a day when I have company and they are looking through my records and see all the crappy shit I have and get disgusted, but then find the one Billy Joel record and think it's a classic record or something, and perhaps they will strike up a conversation about it, and then I'll punch them in the face.

Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here .50 cent

Another band I don't like that could easily fit into my Billy Joel scenario, but they do have one song I like, but I don't know what it's called or what it even sounds like anymore, but someday I plan to find it. That's why I'll buy a Pink Floyd record if I see it in the bargain bins, because it doesn't happen as often as you would assume, so it's not like I'm investing too much money trying to find this one song I probably won't even lie anymore. I'm guessing hippies are forever scouring cheap bins for Pink Floyd records and they always beat me to it, and that's why I never see them, because judging by the amount of records they've sold over the years, there should be cheap bins solely dedicated to Pink Floyd at this point.

Earth, Wind & Fire - Gratitude .50 cent

I think as a know-it-all music blogger, I'm supposed to know a thing or two about Earth, Wind and Fire, but I don't. I figure if it's something I'm supposed to know about, then maybe this is the one piece of shit record I found that I'll listen to more than once before I chuck it into the DO NOT WANT crate. On the other hand, it could just be bullshit like Billy Joel or Pink Floyd and I haven't been missing much all these years. I'm sure I've heard Earth, Wind and Fire songs and liked them, but I couldn't tell you which ones those were.

Ja Rule - Holla Holla 12" .50 cent

Haha. HOLLA HOLLA. That will never get old. I'll probably never listen to this, but it makes me feel better knowing I have a 12" picture of Ja Rule with HOLLA HOLLA written all big on it. The B side has that song with Jay Z and DMX that I think people liked. I don't remember.

The Fools - Heavy Mental .50 cent

I bought this because the cover says HEAVY MENTAL in those big cartoony heavy metal letters. The ones that are supposed to look like steel. I figured this was just some crap band who released a few records that no one ever cared about, but I checked allmusic.com, and I guess the record they released before this was some unsung classic. They had that one there too, but I didn't buy it. They are also supposed to be some kind of funny rock band, but I don't get the joke. Possibly because this was released in 1982, and people's senses of humor were different.

The 5th Dimension Live .50 cent

I own like 14 5th Dimension records and I don't think any of them cost me over $3. Every time I think I bought the last possible 5th Dimension record, another one pops up. I'm sure liking 5th Dimension means I have remedial music taste, but I don't care. I wish I could find more music that sounded like this, which is why I always will buy their records when I see them, even if it seems they've released at least 10 records with the same five songs on them. I understand "Age of Aquarius" was a huge hit for the time, but come on guys.

Fluid Mask - Flesh Sparks to the Beat .50 cent

I'll usually take chances on records with interesting covers on small indie labels. I had a sneaking suspicion this was going to be an early 90's industrial record, and I was right. This brings me back to the days of being an awkward 15 year old trying to be different listening to shitty music. I wonder if anyone still actively listens to music like this?

Yazoo - The Other Side of Love 12" .50 Cent

The abstract cover and odd font choice kind of threw me off, and I didn't expect a dance record. Upon closer inspection, there's a lot of stuff that gave it away, but I'm an idiot. It was released in 1982 like right after disco but before freestyle/house/techno really came around so it's kind of weird sounding. It was completely awesome on 33 until I realized it was supposed to be on 45. The tortured death metal style vocals you don't usually hear on dance records cued me to the rpm mistake.

V/A New Alliance Records - Mighty Feeble .50 Cent

This was a blank white label record with a white blank cover and a typed out sheet of paper with band and track listings tapes onto it. When you see shit like this for under $1 you HAVE to buy it, or you are too much of a nerd to enjoy fun. This wasn't a mega find unfortunately. Just a bunch of dudes recording noisy songs in their garages and basements trying to be weird and artistic, with bands names like AUTISTIC DVINITY and KAMIKAZE REFRIGERATORS. No idea what year it's from, but after a quick listen, I'd say late 80s/early 90's. I'll never listen to this again, but it's cool knowing I own some shitty Pressed in Low Quantity record that features a bunch of long forgotten bands that no one cares about. It is the apex of how stupid and time wasting record collecting is.

Total failure.

2.06.2008

$20 Record Challenge

We had some shit on the message board from forever ago (like 7 months, which is actually two or three internet forevers) where you could drop $20 at the used record store and then share upon what which you founded in the dusty dirty ass dank bins of your local dinosaur ass record store still offering up vinyl, probably in some homo ass college part of town where dudes who purposely make their hair messed up walk by dripping with calculated irony. And as much as I hate those dudes, they are a refreshing break from the internet where everything is collected, datafied, proffered, and gobbled up by others like cybertronic Pac Men trying to eat up everything they'll never listen to and hope they dodge ghostly viruses or overloaded hard drives. Fucking faggots.
Anyways, my wife asked me what I wanted for my birthday (Valentine's Day, in case you fucking faggots want to pretend to be my real friend and go like "Happy B-day Raven" in the stupid cbox like the fucking social misfit robot world faggots you truly are), and I thunk it over and over, and it occurred to me I hadn't been record digging in forever. So she said take $40 and do that shit (which is a lot because up until about a week ago, we were steadily two months behind on the mortgage all winter long... lazy economy and lazy dude don't make a good tag team for financial success), so I did that shit, and have been secretly listening to them in the camper so my kids don't know I already got my present. They'll wrap them up next week and I can open them on my birthday and act surprised. Well, I broke this shit up into two $20 challenges, since I wanted to, and this the first $20 I literally spent at the record store. (Props to Plan 9 Records in Richmond, VA, with the a giant selection of shit in the basement. I'm also glad that homo that prices records only knows hipster bullshit so I could get some awesome shit for cheap. Haha you eastern European looking fuckers... why is it record store nerd dudes who tell you how much you get for your records you stole and are trying to sell always look like eastern European dudes with Fader magazine subscriptions?)

Nashville Original Motion Picture Soundtrack - $1
This is some Robert Altman flick from the '70s starring Karen Black that my local shithole small town video store used to have on VHS. Basically, Karen Black is physically abused as a kid, runs away to be a country singer, gets sexually abused by a couple of Nashville heavyweight superstars, and then I don't remember what happens, but I assume since it was the '70s, she somehow succeeded beyond her wildest dreams and the abusive people all wrecked cars and died or got shot or some bullshit. I got this record looking for samples for the weird country-ish hip hop group Prolo I'm in. At first quick listen, it just sounded like generic crappy made-for-movie country songs, but I didn't give it a solid listen, much less one with the speed slowed down all the way when you really find good samples. The song titles seem promising though ("Keep A-Goin'", "I'm Easy", and "Tapedeck in His Tractor" for example), and a couple of songs were actually written by Karen Black, and if my muddled hipster fuckface mind is working right, she's some sort of awesomely tragic figure from back then, so maybe her songs are glimpses into mad brilliance.

Star Wars Soundtrack - $1
I am no Star Wars nerd by any means. I never had the toys because my folks were poor so I was actually quite resentful of other little snotnosed fuckers sporting all them Han Solos and Chewbaccas and shit when I was a kid - especially kids that had like 13 stormtroopers, just wasting money on toys, and I didn't even have a fucking R2D2 coloring book. But still, this is the straight soundtrack, it was clean as fuck, double album, and only for a buck. How can I lose? I can just slow down the shit like DJ Screw, throw and ASR10 beat behind it, and freestyle sci-fi nonsense and become one of those nerd rappers or whatever they call that stupid shit I read about one time.

Willie Nelson Sings Kristofferson - $1
I'm a big Willie Nelson fan when he's not doing pop country bullshit, and the satellite radio's outlaw station has been playing that new "Gravedigger" song fairly regularly, and it's a great ass song. I really loved that shit he did with that Calexico spic group too. But I've got at least double and triple copies of most of the important Willie records (for your information if you dabble in good country music - Redheaded Stranger, Phases and Stages, Yesterday's Wine, and Shotgun Willie are your best start), but finding one with him doing all Kris Kristofferson songs was intriguing to me. This is partly because double K has become this weird counter-culture figure with me after watching too many old Sam Peckinpah movies where Kristoffersen plays outlaw Jesus to perfection (get Convoy from Netflix if you've never seen it, that shit's easily the greatest made-for-TV movie ever), but also because he writes fucked up soulful degenerate songs. So hearing Willie do "Sunday Morning Comin' Down" is gonna be worth the dollar on it's own, and everything else is gravy.

The Good Times in Country Music - Various Artists - $1
This is a shitty sampler by Columbia Records, but it's a double LP and has a bunch of Hank Thompson songs, and I don't have any Hank Thompson on vinyl. It also has, for kitschy factor, Grandpa Jones of Hee Haw doing "Mountain Dew" (which is awesome), and Jim Nabors aka Gomer Pyle aka that singing hillbilly fag dude doing "Wichita Lineman" (which is hilariouser than fuck). Worth a dollar, but it's also one of those records that I'll file in my one section of vinyl that's I call the Raven-might-be-gay section, because it's the type of stuff I imagine metrosexual homos (haha - an oxymoron, I know) would be playing while drinking weird mixed drinks that taste like Altoids yet get you drunker than hell.

The Late Great Red Sovine - Phantom 309 - $1
If you do not know who Red Sovine is, please steal from these robotnets either "Phantom 309" or more importantly "Teddy Bear", or even "Colorado Kool-Aid". Red Sovine is this weird ass old country singer who did tales of ghosts or crippled children or judgemental people being burned by God or whatever. He is one strange fucker. I have only heard about two or three songs out of the ten on this album, including the "Phantom 309" (which is about a hitchhiker who catches a ride with a ghost-driven tractor and trailer without knowing it until he gets dropped off at a diner and tells everybody about the ride he just got), but I haven't listened to the rest, because I KNOW Red Sovine will deliver... no doubt in my mind, so I'm waiting till the weekend to get crazy ionospherically baked up and sit around with headphones on listening to that shit while masturbating to old Penthouse magazines from 1978.

Blood, Sweat & Tears 3 - $1
This is purely for sampling purposes for Solaris Earth Pipeline, because PSY-OPS played me a beat where he had sampled "And When I Die" by these guys, without even knowing we had hooked up a separate beat together a few months back that was a breakbeat snippet of the b-side to the 45 for that song. I don't think we even put anything over top that sample except maybe a drum kick or two. I will listen to this when I am in a "let's listen to a bunch of potentially shitty ass records and try to find golden nuggets of samplitude within".

Sorrells Pickard - self-titled - $1
I have never heard of this guy, but he looks like a crazy fucker and the album sleeve has a glowing endorsement by Kris Kristofferson, talking about how Pickard was a major voice in the anti-commercial underground sound of Nashville at that time. A lot of times when digging, I'll find shit like this and will go to the date to know whether to go for it or not. This one is from 1972, so it's post-hippie early-outlaw era country time, so this might be an undiscovered gem. It also might be butt ass terrible. Usually with unknown country music, my cutoff date is 1976, because after the bicentennial everything got kinda hokey and country radio became too powerful due to the Jews that moved to Nashville to live in a warmer climate while still screwing musicians and songwriters out of their well-deserved royalties. There's also some great ass song titles on this LP that sound exactly like the type of rural back roads hip hop bullshit themes I'd be writing for the Prolo CD we've been fucking around with lately. It also has radio station call letters Sharpied onto the front and back covers, which always makes me happy because that means a radio station had this album at some point. Basically, I'd like to own a mountain and move this camper trailer I do my musical creative bullshit inside of to the top, get a transmission tower, and have my own AM station. So when I see shit with call letters on it, it reminds me of that. I am a romantic at heart, and a cynic online.

David Banner - Cadillac on 22s 12-inch - $1
This is one of my favorite songs ever, and the one track I always try to hype people up to, so if I had found this for $10, I might've bought it. But there it was, tucked into the dollar racks, not a blemish on the vinyl, and I actually looked up and laughed at the eastern Eurotrash crooked face fucker at the counter, mocking his pretentious ignorance. Not only do I have this on vinyl now to play for parties when I am coaxed into spinning records like a retard from my monstrous collection for cookouting ass drunk people, but the single has the instrumental. I don't think I can even explain to you how stoked that makes me. I, to this day, play certain instrumentals off vinyl on at least a bi-weekly basis. David Banner's beat for Trick Daddy's "Thug Holiday" is always in heavy rotation, and I don't think I could honestly tell you one lyric from it because all I ever spin is the instrumental. But this beat is one of my all-time favorites, and actually what I made Boogie Brown listen to with me like 17 times in a row one night, which led to him hooking up some weird ass beat that ended up being this song "South 15 Rider", which is probably my favorite song I've ever made, except unless you grew up in southside Virginia, you wouldn't understand half the references. The great thing about this record too is that both my oldest two kids love that song and know the whole thing (one is almost 9 and the other just turned 4), and they will be stoked to give it to me for my birthday. I mean fuck, I have five turntables of various import in three different parts of our compound, with records scattered throughout the house, a ton in the camper (most of my good shit is there), and even a couple of crates in the trunk of the Datsun sitting in the front yard that has pink Christmas lights strung up in outline of it. They understand me, love me, and know how amped I'll be to get that single. I'm sure they'll expect me to play it, drink my beer, and we'll play our freestyle game while dancing like hyper-ballerinas, which usually degenerates into doing the robot. I'm a white guy so about all I can do is the robot, and I can't even do that very good.

Crime Mob - Circles 12-inch - $1
This is my favorite song I never admitted to in the EWA from last year, and the beat is a major reason for it, although I have to admit when you have a soulful ass beat with those Memphis style kicks behind it, someone like Princess rhyming over it sounds pretty sweet. There's just something about that sound/voice combo, and it's why the various bitch MCs in Three Six over the years always sounded so great too. I have already played this instrumental like seven times and I just got the shit yesterday. There is a b-side called "Shine Cause I Grind" featuring Mike Jones, and as much as I love Mike Jones and as much as I love this "Circles" song, I have yet to develop the stomach to actually listen to that side, because I know rap music, and I know this will be far from a b-side wins again scenario. I'd prefer to just scratch that side out with some fabric scissors and not worry about even trying to listen to it. In fact, I will do that right now...

The O Band - Look to the Left, Look to the Right 12-inch single - $1
This is a random ass disco single from 1977, with b-side songs called "A Smile is Diamond" and "Fine White Wine", and it's on red vinyl. I have a ton of disco singles because after I got heavy into DJ Screw, and pretty much everything on earth had been sampled to death (and Madlib was taking care of any open genres at like three per year), I started buying up a ton of dollar disco singles and playing them as slow as you could make the turntable play them. It was extra perfect when they were actually 45 rpm 12-inch singles, because then you could just put it on 33 rpms, and let it play. There are tons of breaks in disco, but you have to listen all the way through to find a good part with no stupid organs or homo-sounding horns or pianos or anything. Oftentimes, I couldn't find anything good. Even with all the initial promise, I gave this O Band single a first listen tonight, and it sounds like one of those pieces of shit that will go in a milk crate for the Salvation Army. Although the red vinyl would look good hanging on my woodshed by a nail. In fact, fuck a second listen, I will do that right now...

Max Edwards - Rockers Arena 12-inch single - $1
Man, the dub version of this song was great and spooky, as was the b-side called "Still Alive", which is a case of the b-side winning again, was even better and a thousand times awesome. Then I realized it was a 45 rpm single and I was playing it at 33 rpms. At the proper speed, it was just a shitty reggae single from 1978.

Loveable & the Grippa Riddim - Various Artists - $1
The album cover has a chick in leopard skin dress and promises "THE TOP SOCA ARTISTS of the Caribbean..." I think Fader magazine might've talked about soca music a couple of times (which stands for soul calypso), and this is like the third or fourth soca record I've bought used because I'm assuming at some point it will pay off. Except this record, even stronger than the previous two times, just reinforces the fact - not belief, but straight up fact - that soca music is the absolute shittiest godawful music ever created. It's like if you took every ounce of soul from black people, but then told them they had to make music for people to try to dance to. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd get at least a goofy party jam out of "100% Wine" by Screw Face at the end of the first side, except no. Even that song, by that artist, seemingly impossible to suck, sucks.

Too Short - Life is Too Short 12-inch single - $3
My first non-dollar purchase, and I would buy this every day any day. This is one of Short's classics, maybe his most classic non-sex song, and to have it on 12-inch now is one of my life's greatest accomplishments this week. The single has an 8 minute long extended clean remix (which is good, because when I spin at parties, it's usually drunk ass families with kids running around fighting with sticks and shit or messing up the horseshoe game, so I only spin clean or radio versions of the rap songs, since I don't need to teach kids to say "fuck", "bitch", and "shit"; I'll let the public schools take care of that), plus the instrumental. I used to make 60 minute tapes of instrumentals where I'd just loop one single instrumental over and over on one side of the tape, and do a second instrumental on the other side. My truck doesn't have a tape player, but I'm getting new tires on the '91 Volvo stationwagon to get that back on the road, and it has a tape player, and I'd say chances are pretty fucking high I'm gonna make a 60 minute mixtape with one side all "Life is... Too Short" instrumental, and the other side all "Cadillac on 22s" instrumental. Fuck, I might end up driving to Oklahoma drunk with a tape like that in the Volvo if it's a warm day and I open the sun roof.

Noreaga - Super Thug 12-inch single - $1
I only found out like last year that the Neptunes did this beat, because I always remembered this as that awesome song where N.O.R.E.'s dressed like a sheik in the desert, and the beat's crazy wild. I've also always assumed, from what I've known they've done when I heard it, that Neptunes beats were mad gay and mad stupid and mad unloungin'. But I like the beat, and had gotten kinda slowed down tonight from playing things on slow-mo, plus listening to Too Short (I'll never spell that shit with a dollar sign - that's some fucking stupid shit), so I just pumped this beat, but it didn't sound right until I slowed the speed down. That's a fat ass beat when you slow it down enough to be shielded from amyl nitrate hits in dance club unisex bathrooms where you are tricked into homosexual activities by the gay dude holding your fucked up ass up on the left side while you are concentrating too hard to kissing the hot slut holding you up on your right side. At regular speed, you run the risk of doing what others have done, and making a point to claim it's not gay if you don't actually physically touch a dick, so having a cute guy named Pete suck your dick isn't technically gay.

Riddim Driven 12-inch single - various artists - $1
I wrongly assumed this was gonna be dancehall instrumentals, but even knowing that such a wrong assumption was easy to make, I felt safe since there was an Elephant Man song and a Capleton song on here. Guess what? It all sucked. I was very sad listening to this. The type of sad where you are listening to something you bought at the used record store and you know you have no use for it ever again. They have turntables there for you to preview shit, but I always think that's a crazy goofy way to buy vinyl. I mean, if I was sinking $15 into a Hawkwind record, I'd probably want to do that, but I'm a dollar bin type of motherfucker, and if you can't throw a dollar away on a gamble for a good record, then you're not a music aficionado. Shit, that's the music nerd's lottery right there, hoping you drop a buck and find some crazy wild classic nobody else ever told you about.

Goodie Mob - Cell Therapy 12-inch single - $3
Damn, another song off the EWA 100 All-Time Jams I found, with an instrumental. I don't have the first Goodie Mob tape anymore, so I didn't have access to "Cell Therapy" in non-robotic format, which geeked me up to find this. Making it even better was the fact on the b-side is the album version of "Soul Food", which is one of the singles I sold last time I forgot what a pain in the ass ebay is in actuality and I decided to sell of some bullshit. I have missed my "Soul Food" single a bunch of times, because it's a great song too, and if you could just eliminate T-Mo's stupid fucking "fuck Chris Darden, fuck Marcia Clark" verse, it'd be potentially even more classic than "Cell Therapy". Oddly, also on the b-side of this single is Outkast's "Benz of Beamer" song, since both were down with each other and on the same record label. "Cell Therapy" instrumental in effect. There's also a remix by some dude named Sideeq which is crazy retarded, but not retarded meaning good but retarded meaning bad.

2.05.2008

Look at me WRITIN'

I honestly have other shit I should be doing right now. But I am pissed and needed to vent. Since my wife has heard this rant before, I will now let all of you douchehammers read about it.
I spent most of my working life in workplaces that were not dominated by either of the sexes. Working in the restaurant industry, outside of the cooks, busboys, and the other bartenders, it was all women. I worked in the banking industry for a while, and that was about 55/45 men to women, at least in the department I worked in. Finally in human services, which again, in my situation, was split pretty evenly male to female staff. Now our residents were all male, but I digress. I now find myself working in a school, an elementary school, in which there are about five dudes in the building, not counting the principal and the two maintenance men/security guys. You may ask where the fuck I am going with this? Well, the topic is this: Sharing bathrooms at work with the opposite sex.
At the banking job, we had our own shitters, so I didn’t have to worry about sharing a bathroom, and the same went for the restaurants. I am pretty sure the only women who went into the men’s bathroom were ones that were giving the hot, young line cook head for coke before the wedding’s dinners were served. The residential home was shared by all the staff and the residents, but the residents (aka retards amirite?) did all sorts of ill shit like poop in the toilet brush holders and in the radiators, so the bathroom was nasty regardless of the sex of those using it. Queen Elizabeth and the ghost of Lady Di could have been dropping cords in there, that wouldn’t sully up more the stench of baking shit in the radiators.
That brings me to my current place of bathroom sharing, the elementary school. The regular faculty bathrooms are about a half-mile from our wing, so everyone who needs to go, goes in this tiny bathroom that is in a storage closet that used to be a classroom. When I say tiny, I mean when you walk in the door, you have the paper towel dispenser about shoulder level on your right and you have to do some Barry Sanders-type shit to avoid the commode right in front of you. For the past month, I have been making quick dashes in there after walking the class to lunch, specials, recess, etc, to piss and every time I come out with a new distain for those I share that bowl with.
The piss of a woman is a hideous odor; I have come to find out. It is this nasty, pungent odor that smells like what the rotting anal-scent glands of a skunk must smell like after being dead for two weeks in the middle of the summer. I never have noticed this with my wife, thank god, and that is reason number 23455 that I married her I suppose. But these middle-aged women secrete this awful smell that isn’t bad enough, but after they piss, they like to disguise the smell of their hideous urine by spraying 400 gallons of dollar store Lysol on top of it. This odor hits you harder than the paper towel dispenser. It makes me not want to piss. I drink a gallon of water a day and the desire to not piss has my bladder working at marathoner levels just to avoid the gag-inducing murky piss water that I have to stand over in a tiny 6 by 6 closet.
You may say, “John, just piss somewhere else.” Trust me, those options are even worse because the other bathroom is the one in the room, and that is used by 20 6 and 7 year olds. I had to use the kids bathroom by the cafeteria, which has the most traffic of any bathroom in the building, and once I touched the door knob and felt an inch of dried piss and kid grime, I pissed in record time without touching anything but my dick in the process.
So I am stuck…I have to go into that little box of an aqueous solution of waste electrolytes and metabolites twice a day and just suck it up. Fuck you women and your hideous urine, the worst you are possibly going to get from me is a drop on the seat. RANT FIN.

Shining White Revue #5


Mike Dikk: After a long hiatus, Shining White Revue is back. This is the part of the blog where I give my friend Jay some rap songs to review, but I don't tell him what they are. Since he doesn't know his asshole from his elbow when it comes to rap music, it produces interesting results. Jay has also started his own blog called Dastardly Latchkey, if you want to read stuff where he actually knows what he's talking about.

Song 1: EMC - We Alright

Jay: I think this guy read my diary. I can identify with pretty much everything he’s saying, and that’s further evidence that I would make a crappy rapper. I don’t know if I appreciate the sincerity, dislike the contrived sincerity, or want to eat the summer seasoned cod I can smell from my oven. I think it’s the fish first with the other 2 tied for second. I do get a feeling that this may be Jesus Rap.
I think I’m actually impressed that this dude made a song about pretty much breaking slightly ahead of even. If this were my song I’d have a line that went something like, “What it feel like when you fuck a girl with herpes. Then it’s okay because you didn’t catch the herpes.” I mean, I appreciate the sentiment of this song, but fuck it, I don’t want to be completely identified with. I want the identifying to sneak up on me like a fucking ninja Brownie selling cookies and shit. At first, I want to be a little put off and creeped out, and then I want to subtly realize that ‘Hey, we’re all brownies in this world—just a bunch of Brownies hustling cookies, trying to spray that cheese on our crackers.’
These guys are into Jesus. They have to be. Fuck them. That’s how those Jesus fucks get you: they tell you everything you want to hear, how they couldn’t pay the bills, and how their boss was a dick, and how they sucked at basketball, and then found God and everything changed. I don’t like it when they give me The Watchtower or Awake, and I don’t like it when they sneak their love for the lord into rap songs.

Song 2: Torae - Callin' Me

Jay: I don’t know what the sample is from in this song, but I think it’s fucking Michael McDonald, which automatically makes this song a joke even if I am wrong. I’m assuming everybody looking at this is internet savvy enough to have seen Yacht Rock, and that means you know what I’m talking about. I don’t even hear what this guy is rapping about because I just keep listening to the sample, thinking of the dude from Yacht Rock who played Michael McDonald with a headset on, singing these smooth lyrics around a bunch of g’d out fuckwads who are all like, “We’re gonna come with that Michael McDonald shit and blow this bitch out of the water. Pass the dro cuz it’s about to get smooth as fuck in here and I need a slightly sedating hallucinogenic to calm my nerves. I can really use a massage, so do you think we can order one of those Chinese girls that work in the spa? You know, like room service? Do they do that? Can I order a massage over the phone?”
Anyways, another trend in rap that sucks, and I’m not sure gets much recognition as its own type of jammy jam, is the ‘I keep trying to quit doing/selling crack/weed/hoes but they keep pulling me back in because I was so good at it that they offered me this huge raise and I just couldn’t refuse’ song. I’m sick of that song. Here’s my message to whoever this is: I don’t give a fuck about your rapping, and I don’t really think you’re that good of a crack dealer/doer (whichever it is), so maybe you should just walk away and stop hanging out with the people who keep on pulling you back in, like other crack dealers. They are obviously a bad influence. Maybe you should apply at the post office, or even at UPS if you don’t mind working a condensed shift. I hear they have great benefits.
Also, again with the Nas shit. Nas should make it so he gets paid a dollar for every time someone mentions his name and his last album title in a song or interview. He’d have like… 200 bucks, easy.

Song 3: Solaris Earth Pipeline - Good & Formulaic (demo)


Jay: This is awesome. THIS GUY KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT I AM TALKING ABOUT! READ THE FIRST REVIEW! The beat is insane, and lyrically I don’t know exactly what he’s talking about because I’m typing as I write it, but he said something to the effect of ‘I make you think you’re a part of my crew. That’s what I do,’ but much more cleverly, or at least in tune with the song. I can’t even make fun of this. Sorry. I cannot wait to find out who it is so I can steal it.
It’s going to be awesome when Mike tells me that this is Snow or some shit. Then, I’m either going to have to write a note in my next review saying “Dudes, I was totally joking. That shit was wack. It was reverse psychology I was running on you. LOL,” or I’m going to have to be like, “Fuck it, guys, I like Snow. I can man up and admit it because I am an idiosyncratic dude who can like gay shit because I fess up to the gay shit I like and that exempts me from being gay because I get the joke, am sort of in on it, but am sort of outside of it. So, really, you guys are the ones who suck because I am on a different level.”

Song 4: Cam'Ron - Pass The Dutchie

Jay: Pass the Dutchie. Hahaha. Not really, though. Pass the Dutchie is one of those songs that would be so trite to sample that nobody would ever touch it, but everybody would be like “Yo, we should sample Pass the Dutchie. Nah, fuck that, we’re not twelve.” I can imagine Trick Daddy trying to pull something like this off because he is a borderline retard/idiot savant, but even then, it would be crappy.
I can’t even listen to this. I don’t feel like I’m giving you your fake money’s worth with these last two reviews so I’ll write a little m ore garbage, and maybe then I’ll meet my word-per-cent quota. But I’ll listen to this song throughout so as to keep it all relevant.
I went to a Brownies meeting today. My daughter is a Brownie, and my wife was at work because she is my sugar mama, so I had to take her place in line for Brownie-Mom-Who-Brings-In-Snacks. I walked into the room and found out that my daughter is getting skull fucked by these two overweight soccer moms. First, they have this thing called a triad (or something that sounds like the word triad that my mental dictionary could not match up with a logical definition) which is where they sit all of the little girls in a circle and make them chant some bullshit to the effect of: “We swear allegiance to God, the United States, and to the fucking Brownies who use us as pedophile candy with cookies,” and so on. Then they made them promise to cook a healthy dinner for the family one day this week (my daughter is eight and can’t microwave a fucking Hot Pocket), and then made them make coupons for everyone in their families’ promising to do stuff like clean, or feed an animal or something.
Then the triad broke up and the two fat soccer mom bitches made them go to the table and make the stupid coupons. They left the kids to do their thing, and the brown haired soccer started yelling at her other little daughter who tagged along, while the blonde haired one yelled at her daughter who was a Brownie for making a coupon that said “I will clean my sister’s room every day for a week.”
She said some shit in front of all her little Brownie friends, like, “HAHAHA, yeah right. Try something you’ll actually do. Why would you clean your sister’s room when you can’s even keep your own room clean,” and on and on.
Needless to say, I’m not gonna let my daughter do that shit next year. I’d pull her out now but she wouldn’t understand and my wife wouldn’t go for it. I’m probably going to write a more detailed account on my website sometime, and that’s one of those shameless plugs that’s not meant to be a shameless plug because I’m running out of steam and this fucking Pass the Dutchie song is making me want to eat a bowl of doo doo brown. So, Pudskowt, out.

Random Crap Super Tuesday

some dude wanted me to post his video of the Wu-Tang Clan at Hammerstein Ballroom. Didn't watch it, but hey.



You can Downloas it RIGHT HERE too if you love it so much.

MIA - Paper Planes (I've probably posted this before):


Aesop Rock - Pigs:


That old 'Beat Diggin' documentary I meant to put up in downloadable format like a year ago but never got around to it, but now someone has uploaded it to Youtube so we all win:



GREAT EBAY AUCTION

PLease visit:
I Hook A Beat Up. (my writing part should be up there today)

Dastardly Latchkey (Please link Jay on your blogs. I will make sure he does the same. Don't be a dick. If I get really motivated, I might finish up the shit I'm doing for his blog tonight too)

Finally, if I get really, REALLY motivated, there will be a new Shining White Revue up tonight. I've been sitting on it (literally) for a few days now.

2.02.2008

Expert Whiteboy Analysis Super Bowl Sunday Top 10

SUPER BOWL SUNDAY EXPERT WHITEBOY ANALYSIS TOP TEN (or the ten most notabled thangs that sprang from the sphere of hip hop at a marketing angle that caught our eyeballs recently - cut back from 25, and no longer monthly but completely random)
WHO WE ARE:
RM: Raven Mack, although I have been calling myself Mr. 2009 lately. I make a lot of t-shirts with iron-on letters, and I've got both an emerald green with white letters and a bright orange with black letters MR. 2009 t-shirt thus far. I am manifesting my riches to be cashed out that year, although when I gave that too much thought while nursing a pinched nerve torn shoulder internal part with some codeine the other night, I figured I should also make some Dr. 2006 shirts too, as the self-taught science that has been building to that 2009 pay-off was graduated in 2006. Of course, like any doctor, I had been studying that bullshit for a decade in advance. Don't doubt my metaphysical status.
MD: My name is Mike Dikk. I work at a popcorn factory now. There's an old dusty 386 here and I rigged some stuff together using spare computer parts I had around the house so I can use the internet on my lunch breaks (where I am allowed to eat all of the free popcorn I want, except the White Cheddar, but I do get a good discount on it). It has one of those gigantic old school monitors with the green screen. So it's a trip viewing the internet on it, or at least the parts of the internet the archaic graphics card can handle, which isnt much to tell you the truth... Everything looks like fucking War Games or something. I fully expect this thing to bust out with WOULD YOU // LIKE TO // PLAY // A // GAME?? at any moment.
JD: I was the one that championed not ending this, but alas I became the slacker in this Top 10 deal. But shit is real for me now. I am doing the full-on dress rehearsal for my future career, so I am putting all of my time into dealing with first grade kids that are all sons and daughters of the soil. What I did notice was something that Raven mentioned in a quick blurb while we were having our cool internet chatter in homo code in the Clubhouse. There is a high amount of sexualization even at a young age in the public school system. For example, during a spelling test, these words were "randomly" put in order:
BIG
BUT
BLACK
CHICK
MAKE
COME
I insist that this was coincidence because all the teachers are straight laced, but who the fuck knows? Also, we were playing a phonics game and when the kids laid out the game pieces and there was a word chunk of "ore", and the beginning sound piece sitting right next to it was "wh". Finally, every exercise with the high frequency words ends up at some point with all the kids chanting BALLS over and over.
So maybe Raven is right? Or maybe he is some paranoid motherfucker and I am just justifying his paranoia by telling my stories of what an everyday first grade is like? Or maybe we are both stupid fucks who want to defend our educational positions by making up shit? Maybe glue tastes good? Who the fuck knows, but what I do know is I am balls deep in it for the long haul.


#1: INTERWEB LEAK OF NEW EMC RECORD
MD: If you're reading this on the internet, it means you haven't discovered some way to telepathically download our words to your brains without a wi-fi connection. It also means, you probably already know EMC is Masta Ace's new group with some other guys. I've now listened to this record two times back to back, which is something I don't do too often, but my computer recently had a seizure and I had to erase one of my hard drives in order to get it back in working order, so my iTunes is very limited at the momenet, and it was either listen to that record a couple times, sit in silence, or go through all of my unalphabetized, uncategorized records to find something decent to listen to. I guess I could have listened to one of my four remaining CDs, but that's besides the point.
I already forgot where I was going with all that, but it was something about how I don't really want to give this CD a proper review, because every other blog known to man will cover that ground, and the only thing I'm curious about is whether the average internet rap nerd's boner and following orgasm was bigger when they saw this record finally listed on a blog and they hit the download button or if it was bigger when they actually got around to listening to the record. I'm guessing it was the former because we all know the first one of the day is the biggest and produces the most fluid volume.
I'd also like to mention that Torae mixtape that's making the rounds without giving it its own spot, since we've downgraded the number of entries on these lists and I don't want to waste space. The Torae CD came out of nowhere while all us blog nerds were waiting with baited breath on the EMC record, but it still had the same outcome (or outcum). Torae is definitely a dude I have never ever heard of but he has his finger on the pulse of the internet, because his record features every producer that has been jocked over the past year. I'm not dissing, because the dude can rap too, and the record is really, really good, but at the same time, it's definitely good in a very uniform blog-acceptable way, so I can't muster up the energy to write anything creative about it, because I know there will be 400 similar opinions on the internet within the week, just like the EMC record.
I guess my point is, I like stuff just like you do, but sometimes there's no point in really writing about it when a gang of European kids already beat you to it since their time zone is like 12 hours different than our's, and they already wrote about it while you were still sleeping. Except for me. I don't sleep, because sleep is the cousin of death, but I'm generalizing here.
JD: Like Mike, I am not going to get into a track-by-track analysis of the album like some other blogs have done, but I will get into it a tad deeper than Mike. This album is beyond fantastic, and during a time when all these releases are coming up in the next few months, I really don't see how it could get better. The production is great but not overwhelming, the lyrics are insane (my early frontrunner for line of the year is when Punchline says, "I'll fight for my fam like Antonio Davis"), and even though it is a "concept" album, it doesn't get all hokey with doing songs about walking down the street and other inane bullshit that a concept album can wander into becoming.
Before I wrote this, I watched the Youtube videos of the group members talking about the leak, and I know it must suck to have your album just given away. But to be honest, I am going to buy this no doubt when it comes out, and in the age of stealing shit being so easy, that is the highest compliment you can give an album.
(P.S. I hipped Mike on Torae, trying to steal my heat son.)


#2: KOOL G. RAP'S "ON THE RISE AGAIN" SONG
RM: Forgive me because I'm thinking disparaging thoughts about someone I consider one of the greatest five MCs of all-time, and I probably won't type them out because it is uncomfortable enough to even have "Has G. Rap flipped his cabbage out there in Arizona?" thoughts two-stepping through my white head.
I mean, I have to admit after my initial reaction of "This is awesome!" when I heard him with LL and G-Unit on that song a couple months back, I eventually settled into, "Why the fuck is G. Rap fucking with G-Unit?" I mean, I could understand LL Cool J, because he's been a pop star for purt near two decades. And I eventually just decided that it's wack of me to be all Hip Hop Holier Than Thou about an MC legend wanting to deposit some G-Unit checks into his bank account.
But a song with Haylie Duff on the hook? I'm not gonna be like every faggot blog I found when I google searched "Kool G. Rap and Duff" to figure out how to spell that young bitch's first name correctly, who basically did thirteen variations on "Signs of the Apocalypse. Dogs fucking cats. Blah blah blah I'm an unclever homo who loves to dramatically employ really played out cliches in the hopes some other homo types 'LOL, let's link blogs' in my c-box." For me, it just seems questionable in a way I never thought I'd question Mr. Kool Genius Rap the IV. And honestly, I've not been able to let myself listen to it yet. I downloaded it after hearing DJ Premier talk about it on his radio show, and Premo (who made the beat) expressed his own discomfort with Haylee Duff being on the track, but that there was no time to change it and G. Rap sent him the thing with her on it to mix down, so Premo added the cuts over her hook to try and at least mute it down some. I don't know... it worries me over this shit. Although I'm enough of a Kool G. Rap mark that I'm just going to assume this is trickery on his part to fool all the rap fag nerds who know way more than they really know, so that when his real shit drops and makes people go, "Oh yeah, for-real rap music," he can laugh at us.
MD: I figured I'd throw something up on this already failing top ten idea (originally cut down from 25 after everyone lost interest, and soon it will become the top 2 because only me and Raven will write for it, and then I will replace everyone else with people who know absolutely nothing about rap music and 16 year old girls) because Raven's been bitching and it's a slow day at the popcorn factory I now work at. On top of that, the main boss dude keeps firing all of my co-workers so I don't have anyone looking over my shoulder every five minutes and asking me what I'm looking at while talking to me about sugar gliders and couches they found on Craigs List.
Anyway, I haven't heard this Kool G. Rap song yet either, but I could have told you a year ago that bad things were in Kool G's future. You see, I am on Kool G. Rap's Myspace friends list, which is weird all together, because I'm not friends with a lot of people I don't know in real life, but I could be thinking of one of my Myspace profiles for one of my 3,000 side projects where I am friends with everyone, but I digress.
So at some point, Kool G. Rap, or whoever controls Kool G. Rap's Myspace page, sent out a Myspace bulletin saying that G. Rap was available to do features and had listed prices. That is something a rookie should be doing, not a fucking rap legend. So right then and there, I knew any douche with a grand to blow was going to have a shitty G. Rap verse on their shitty album that no one will ever hear outside of their hometown. Luckily, I haven't heard of any of those tracks popping up yet (except that brand new one, where it's G. Rap, and RA The Rugged man, then some jobber, and of course the track is from the jobber's record), so if the worst thing to happen to G. Rap since that Myspace bulletin is making a bullshit song with Hailee Duff, we should all be thankful. It's only a matter of time before MC Dudebro420 from Vermont's new hardcore street track featuring G. Rap surfaces.


#2: YEAR END WRAP-UP ISSUE CORRECTIONS
RM: I failed to rememberize Evel Knievel when I did my Heaven Needed A Something-or-Other write-up. And that is a ridiculous oversight on my part. Evel Knievel had all the pomp, flash, calculated recklessness, gold jewelry, tricked out cars, and sluts by the dozens that any rapper could ever dream about. And if you can be THAT hip hop, all while being a bitter old racist fucker, then goddamnit right, props to you Evel. I hope they didn't let you in Heaven, so you jumped the pearly gates on a KX80, fucked God's wife in the ass, then bolted to mujahadeen heaven, where there's mad virgins to be fucking. (Special note: the virgins awaiting terrorism martyrs is misinformation, as it's not actually virgins but instead unpolluted women, meaning they don't bleed at all. Virgins still menstruate, and their period blood touching your ass is as bad as Grandma Deepwater Baptist finding your milk crate full of thrash metal records from 1986 in the attic. Also to specially note: no gods or heavens or actual people named Grandma Deepwater Baptist, although she's more likely than an eternal country club with an open bar on a cloud.)
MD: I have no year-end Wrap Up corrections and no regrets. I'm kind of bummed it was the least talked about 5,000 word project we've done so far, but it was also the least promoted. I'm pretty over promoting my own shit. It's been over a year now. If you want to see the shit, you find it. Even if it's two years from now after we've all given up on it and you're some young stupid kid looking for something unrelated through a search engine and you stumble upon it and get hyped on it, wondering whatever happened to us and why we quit doing this stuff when everything seemed to be going well. I am comfortable with the fact that in our mile a minute world, shit gets slept on for years and rediscovered when the original proponents of said shit have long given up on it. That's how life works now for the starving artist. So fuck promoting, you either see this or you don't. We aren't a real magazine so we don't need the advertising money so fuck it if we go belly up. I am sure just like every other dumb shit thing I've done on the internet, I will be on some random message board several years from this moment and some dude will ask me to dig up something I did on Dumpin.net so he can re-read it, and how he doesn't understand why we ever quit and we should do it again. Story of my life.


#4: STUPID FUCKING NEW YORK GIANTS IN THE SUPER BOWL
RM: You know, I was all set to forever hate the Patriots finally after this QUEST FOR PERFECTION finally trampled upon whatever rah rah Team America subliminal national pride my public education had immunized with, but then the stupid fucking Giants and that retard's little even more retarded brother Eli Manning is going to the Super Bowl. Now, it's bad enough a team I hate is going to the Super Bowl, but it's the Giants. We've come a long ways in the past two decades from when the Bears had to rush to record "The Super Bowl Shuffle". With laptop recording studios and the worldwide web, you might have a dude diss another rapper onstage on a Saturday night, Sunday morning the video is on youtube, Monday afternoon the dissed rapper recording a response track over top a throwaway beat, and by Monday night it's on his myspace page. The whole beef can flare up, simmer down, and be overanalyzed by the end of the week, without the need for Minister Farrakhan at all. This of course means I will probably see Jim Jones Super Bowl songs featuring Michael Strahan, a Saigon/Papoose/three other fuckers posse track featuring Sportscenter soundbites of Plaxico Burress, and just a general hip hop frenzy over this, being New York has been pretty hard-dicked to have something to act like they're running ever since shitty southern pop rap has tooken over the pop rap charts, and older rap heavyweights like Jay-Z, Nas, and the Wu have become sort of uninspiring. I was ready to root for anybody but the Patriots (haha, it always amazes me the coincidental parallels between the Bush regime and the Patriots dynasty), but I could never root for the stupid fucking Giants, especially not now with those stupid red numbers on their road jerseys. But the Patriots? It's like making me choose between having one guy fuck my ass or three guys fuck my mouth (notice I said three, because in my twisted mind the choice between getting one ass-fucking or giving two blowjobs is not even a close debate, so I had to make it three blowjobs)... I guess when it comes to Super Bowl XLT or whatever it is, I'm gonna have to be rooting for Al-Qaeda.
MD: I have become a fair weather fan of the Giants now that they made it to the Super Bowl. Raven's intense bias toward all things New York are really blinding him from seeing the bigger picture. If you follow football at all, you should know that the Giants are incredible underdogs, and they have been through the entire playoffs. That's the beauty of the NFC. The AFC is usually a lock by pre-season for 1 of 4 teams to go to the Super Bowl, while the NFC is like hitting the Random buttom on Madden to pick your opponent because anyone can show up to the Super Bowl as long as they are one of the 6 teams to make the playoffs. Even last year when my Chicago FOOTBALL Bears made it to the Super Bowl and more or less dominated the bullshit NFC for the entire season, I was still pretty worried throughout the playoffs, because I knew ANY team in the NFC could have knocked them off, because that's the nature of the NFC.
So The Giants making it to the Super Bowl was a surprise and it wasn't a surprise. Still, they were the last NFC playoff team people expected. That's not the entire reason I am now a fair weather fan though. The other night before I went to bed, I was flipping through the channels and came across a commercial for the March of Dimes. It was one of those local area commercials (I'm assuming it is local in the greater tri-state area, so perhaps you've seen it) where the audio is all muffled and the video quality makes it look like it's still 1989. You know, some shit your local wacky used car dealership throws together.
Well, this March of Dimes commercial starred Eli Manning, and he was jibber jabbering something about premie babies, but I was so amazed by it. His brother is in something like one out of every five commercials that run on television, while Eli is stammering his way through some late night local area charity spot and now the dude is leading a team to the Super Bowl, much like the Bad News Bears repping Chico's Bail Bonds in Japan. It takes a lot of serious Jew Media magic to turn any New York team (besides the horrendous Knicks) into a serious on-field performance AND off-field media underdog, but they've succeeded big time, and I am so pumped right now to see the Giants beat the shit out of the Boston bullshit Patriots like they were on some 1980 Winter Olympics DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES shit.
JD: Outside of the game, one of the best parts of the Super Bowl is the legal troubles/ill shit that comes to the forefront about one of the players on one of the Super Bowl teams. So far, the best of these stories has been about N.Y. Giants defensive end Osi Umenyiora. A "magazine model", whatever the fuck that is, started her own blog here to announce dude likes to shit on his girls. She spells out how he wanted her to get double teamed, but she said no, so she had a friend come over and Osi shit on her in a bathtub. She then wrote about how he paid her bills and bought her jewelry so he could shit on her as well.
I am an open dude. If Osi wants to shit on girls, then that is his deal, but I am sure people would read what she wrote and think of him as some sort of sicko freak. But who really is the freak here? Osi would never have come up with this sort of fetish unless a girl let him pinch a log on her, so is it Osi's fault that turns him on? It takes two to tango, kids, and if dropping a few g's gets him a toilet with a vagina, then she is just as freaky as he is. Unless Eli gets caught giving footjobs to Cooper Manning in the trunk of Joe Montana's car while he is in a gay bar doing double anal on Elton John with Joe Klecko, this Osi story should stand tall as the illest shit (ha, shit) to come out of the Super Bowl hype.
RM: Mike mentioned to me that somebody has a New York Giants song now, but he said it was a rapper. The other day in the truck I heard them play a Collie Buddz song "Blind to Them" (or something along those lines) about the Giants and how they'll crush the Patriots and fuck the haters. I hope this is the song Mike heard, but even if not, it's funny. It's not bad as a throwaway dancehall song, but haha all the Giants have backing them is a white dancehall dude from Bermuda. I guess when you don't know about Collie Buddz, he still sounds awesome, but once you learn all about him and his fake Jamaican patois, he just seems like a fucking first class chump. Although he's a white guy so he may be googling himself and find this and send me a "cease and desist this shit yo" email.


#5: AMY WINEHOUSE SMOKES CRACK
RM: I am the type of know-it-all hipster douche who's all like "LOL, yeah Amy Winehouse is sooooo great. What about Sharon Jones, asshole? Don't you know every obscure soul singer who does a retro schtick in 2008? God." But I have to admit with Winehouse being all ugly and drugged up, and not just regular white American people drugs but crack - I didn't even know they had crack in England - it sort of makes her awesome in a different way. Sharon Jones seems pretty straight-laced and into doing the "I'm an older black woman sanging some soul" thing, but the degradation of drug abuse unlocks a tortured part of your soul, or creates it, and as long as someone's taping her attempting to mangle some R&B classics on Protools files that'll eventually get touched up by Mark Ronson in between them videoing her smoking rock to throw up on youtube, I'm straight. It's also funny to me that my four-year-old can actually sing "Rehab". I'm such a hipster douche.
JD: Really who cares? But she did get a hip hop rep of sort for singing old school soul music with crackling horns and all that other bullshit that people tend to think is cool even though they would never own a record of her's. Fuck her though. I think if you want to truly emulate some old, black singer, you should get hooked on heroin for years and years like Ray Charles, Miles Davis, and that one lady from France, but still put out classic music. See, I am sure there are people out there doing way worse shit than crack, and are still contributing something to society rather than looking massively haggard, wearing 16 lbs of eye makeup, and not washing your hair. Smoke on up stupid bitch, because the only way now you are going to get jocked is if you die - coming back all clean is pussy. If you are retarded enough to videotape yourself sucking a glass dick, then you should live that shit and just do it on stage at some Brit Pop awards show when you get a Lifetime Achievement Award based off your one jocked album.


#6: MEXICAN COKES
RM: So we had an in-depth discussion on the merits of Mexican Cokes from the Mexican stores, made with for-real sugar instead of damned weak-ass fructose syrup Americanized sodey pops, in The Secret Clubhouse message board a few months back, and ever since, I've been meaning to buy a couple. Well, it just so happened a couple of yesterdays ago I found myself right at a la tienda mexicana, so I went in to get me some sugar sodas to hopefully accelerate the diabetes because I don't really need both feets. They didn't have no Cokes in there, but they did have Pepsis, so I got two of those plus a jug of that strawberry banana Guava nectar (my kids love that shit).
The best thing about the Mexican Pepsis were they are bottled in some old school 1979 hard bottles that you could beat people to death with, with paint and a capped top. At the counter, there was a full-on "no ingles" chick holding her toddler and a bi-lingual chick who rung me up. I am always susceptible to the allure of a spanish chick (except Puerto Ricans, which are like annoying New Yorkers, but brown), but this chick was something else, with her dyed hair, and when she said, "I'm sorry..... I have no cents today," so she shorted me two pennies and her "r"s in "sorry" rolled ever so sexually enough, I wanted to make children with her right away, because that's how my brain works.
Instead, I took my 1979 ass sugar Pepsi outside on the street side and sat there pretending I was in a futuristic sci-fi flick from 1981, where Mexicans were trapped as slaves in a world where white people zipped by in rounded sleek silvery cars and had little white machines with earbuds playing music straight to their brains. Unfortunately, there was no revolutionary climax to my daydreaming, because a very obviously modern Mexican dude rolled up in a giant white Nissan Titan with plenty chrome and a big vinyl thing in his back tinted window saying "PAPA GARCIA", and he jumped out with horn-driven breakbeat mongrel ass Mexican music blaring when the door opened. This reminded me that I also had meant to get a couple Los Tigres Del Norte CDs, but I had to get home to put my chivos back in their pen before it got dark and cold as fuck.
MD: I don't really know the joys of a Mexican Coke because there are very few Mexicans living in the northeast, at least legally. There's a good chance I didn't even see a real live Mexican until my 20s.
I do like how name brand sodas are specifically formulated to appeal to the countries they are being shipped to. All soda is, really, is really shitty chemicals, and the fact that they do enough research to know how to tweak those chemicals for certain countries is just bonkers to me. I've had Mexican soda before, in Mexican restaurants run by white people, so I know the whole sugar cane thing, but I've never had an honest to goodness Pepsi or Coke. I did have an Indian Pepsi before though, along with the preferred brand of Pakistani soda, called Pakola. It's supposed to taste like ice cream, but it tastes more like horrible perfume a grandma wears. I'm not even sure if the Indian Pepsi I had was actual Pepsi. The colors, logo and bottle look like Pepsi, but it's called Thumbs Up! It's rather spicy, which is not something I look for in a cola. Kind of like shitty Moxy or something.
Lastly, I had something called Vimto, which is India's answer to Dr. Pepper, and it resembled a store brand knockoff of Dr. Pepper, so there's not really much to talk about.
I am hoping to one day break into Japanese soda because those Japs are all about weird flavorings and have like watermelon cola and pumpkin seed root beer. I've had that one Jap soda that is engineered like a Rube Goldberg device where you have to take the pin out and push down a marble and watch the carbonation rush up to the top of the bottle, but it just tastes like Sprite once all the hullabaloo is over. I want that freaky shit. I need some white chocolate mango Pepsi ASAP.


#7: LIL WAYNE BUSTED FOR THE ASSORTED DRUGS
RM: You know, I like some of Wayne's stuff but I definitely missed the boat on the internerd rapdork "OMG WEEZY'S THA BEST!!!" train, because I don't see it. However, I am hoping beyond anything I've hoped for in rap music in probably fifteen years that there's some master plan going on here. I am hoping that somebody - maybe Baby, maybe some Jew Overlord, whoever really - is engineering things along, learning from the wasted marketing potential of DJ Screw's death, learning from the megamillions struck when Cobain swallowed a mouth full of buckshot, learning from the eternal soundscan flame that was Biggie and Tupac until recently, and someone has kept all the best Wayne shit, like 3000 times more retardedly wonderful than all that bullshit from Tha Carter III mixtape you fags acted like was awesome, and is just sitting on it, giving Wayne his daily per diem in pocket cash, and allowing him all the exorbitant drugs and sex he wants, waiting for the big overdose to hit him one night. Then - BAMM! - you get the for-real Lil Wayne album finally out, and it's the first rap record in forever to go multi-platinum because motherfuckers are geeked for it and want to honor his stupid little gay ewok rapper face by actually purchasing the thing instead of just stealing it like we would've normally done. That's what I'm hoping is going on.
(Also, I was high the other night sitting in my truck in the backyard listening to satellite radios when it occurred to me that Lil Wayne is pretty much a black Eminem for all the white rap fags who want to like some oddball corny tattooed dude with predictable yet wacky linguistical patterns but not really too much cleverness to actually say, so that if they are a true expert whiteboy loving rap, there is no way they could ever love another whiteboy because that goes against the basic principals of being an expert whiteboy rap fan, so now they can love Lil Wayne which is basically Eminem but smudged yet not stained with the ghetto. So before you fags post, "Why you hating on the best rapper alive?" I can say, "Haha you stupid fags wanting to suck a black Eminem dick.")
MD: I want to use this space to mention that Lil Wayne is working on a mixtape with Mick Boogie called Hello Brooklyn where he "revisits" Brooklyn hip hop classics. The only song confirmed so far is "Who Got The Props 2008" and the only audio available is Buckshot's new verse from that song. This mixtape will be the true test to see if Wayne can hang on to all of his internet dicksuckers. On one hand, it's the first thing Wayne has done that I cared about hearing, and on the other hand, all of the current people hanging from his nuts will have to decide whether their carnal love for all things Wayne will override the pre-programmed internet opinion that you cannot revisit previous East Coast classics unless they contain scrapped Biggie verses that were locked up in a vault somewhere.
I think a lot of people forget that Cam'ron was once in Wayne's spot, and as far as I'm concerned, Cam put out the mixtape of the year last year, and there was nary a peep from internet thug rap sympathizers because they were too busy waiting for leaks from Drought Carter VII to show up on a blogsite. Both Cam and Wayne were rappers previously written off as fads and flashes in the pan before their resurgences as "Greatest Rappers Alive", so the real question is, who's going to take Wayne's spot? Drag-On? Magoo? Red Hot Lover Tone? Only time will tell.


#8: THE RELEASE OF THE LAST AIR JORDANS
JD: Being the resident sneaker freak, now is a big time in that realm because Nike is now releasing the last of the true Air Jordans, the Jordan XX3. Normally, this would be a big deal, but with Jordan being retired and the general dislike towards the Jordan Brand by the sneaker community, it is barely causing a blip in the mainstream sports/hip hop world.
I am not sure if any of you people heard of this website called gamefaqs.com? Basically it is the cauldron of all video game nerds; every dorky detail of that culture can be unearthed by going through those gamefaqs message boards. I find alot of similarities between that world and the world of the sneaker collector. From browsing places like uptempoair, ISS, and Niketalk, to the non-sneakerhead, the place can be just as dorky as people talking about video games. There are threads about keeping your sneaker crease-less, pictures of the sneakers people bought and own, and general bitching about the quality of what is being released. Most importantly, I think the people who are mainstays in both of these geek factories are more similar than you think. The video game shit is older dudes who shouldn't care that much about video games, or kids who are just into it to the point where they come off as huge speds. The sneaker forums are older dudes who spend the electricity bill loot on the $185 new Jordans, or suburban thug kids who have mommy and daddy drive them across the state to the one Finish Line that carried the Flint/gray XX3s that were carried in only 23 stores and cost around $300.
Being an older guy with a wife, potential career, and trying for a kid, I have become a voyeur to the sneaker game. It is funny to see kids shit their pants over Jordans I used to buy when I was 13 and end up wearing to cut the grass after a few months. But don't think this "last" Jordan is going to be the end of the Jordan Brand. I am sure there will be generations of Filipinos who will be locked in a windowless factory sewing into shoddy leather making retro Jordans that will retail for $300 when it takes about $7 of man power/material to make.
RM: Honestly, the one thing I have never understood, and this was probably due to necessity as a broke ass kid, was high dollar clothing trends. My parents were younger than fuck, drunker than fuck, and broker than fuck, so the pimpest pair of shoes I had as a youth was a pair of sky blue Kangaroos that I equipped with matching fat laces. No matter how hard I'd beg and plead, my parents just didn't understand, and I was usually sporting the most derivative bobos to be found. In fact, I had the bobos version of the first Air Jordans, which of course, as Bobos are apt to do, only looked good for like four hours. And being in a predominantly black school, wearing bobo Air Jordans just led to mad clowning during P.E. (Haha, at least I didn't live in the projects, although I guess my grandmother was forced by her own racial intolerance to move into a trailer park and out of the projects.) After a little wear and tear, the bobo Jordans went from high top to low top, because the upper shell part just sort of started ripping, so I just tore it off and trimmed them up with a boxcutter. They looked relatively cool then, but more from a degenerate metalhead kid perspective than a put a toothbrush to it to keep it clean fresh kid perspective.
The funny thing is, knowing how twisted and perverse the internet is, I bet there's little circles of people who collect bobos and show off their shit amongst each other, claiming bobos are better because they were less cared for and more likely to be gone now, so ultimately it's a more pure form of sneaker, all talking down on each other for wearing Nikes, and having signature pictures of photoshopped Chuck D holding up some bobos with his power fist and the words "I like Nike but wait a minute!" Fucking fruity ass internets.


#9: MURS "BETTER THAN THE BEST" VIDEO/SONG
RM: I would assume this has been in circulation for a long minute, but I guess the "official" release of MURS first major-label song/video just happened this past week, and I used my internet welfare for about 40 minutes to dl the video off of Youtube, just to see what was going on. I slept on MURS but got into him well enough late, and never really understood the move to a major label. Like, what did Warner Brothers see in him that separated him from whatever else was out there amongst the three million competent ass rappers there are to make them think they could recoup some money off him in a day and age when no one sells records anymore?
This first video and song is okay - probably to the average human ears it outshines all the wack anabolic steroid ass TV title rappers in heavy rotation (but then again the average ears probably love that stupid shit), but I'm not sure what makes it super awesome to make some skater kid in rural Indiana go drop fifteen bucks on a CD. I guess at this point, as the recording industry continues to self-destruct, I assume they would have some grand vision to trick people into giving up their money again. But instead it seems like they kind of want a new Pharcyde dude, but without all the crack addiction, and therefore not quite as amusing. Props to MURS though. I hope he makes enough money back that he's not owing those Jews his guarantee back for the next twenty years of his life.
JD: Back when we did the Top MCs thing at another website what seemed like a thousand years ago, MURS was upset in the first round by Eminem. This was back before we officially started doing these EWA blurbs, and before I really held major resentment towards the average hip hop internet fan. In my early "trying to be some underground cool guy" days, my then-girlfriend, now wife, would make me mix CDs of random tracks of underground dudes, to which I would go home and listen to in my Discman becuase I had not yet stepped into the iPod generation. One of the many reasons I married her was that she was hip enough to my desire to be hip to go out on the internets herself to find the name of "underground" dudes she would put on the CDs. She would also make these cool CD covers with shit that I liked like John Stockton, Doug Gilmour (the St. Louis Blues version), sneakers, and like pictures of graffitti.
Once I became a full-fledged white man on the internet, I went out and got every MURS track I could find. I had a promo version of Why Ask Why? for the longest fucking time that I would force myself to listen to because I can't stand that promobot voice.
It seems out of place MURS is now signed to a major label and is on the cover of magazines. Shit, he even has a number you can dial to get MURS updates. Honestly, like Raven said, I hope he recoups all the loot he is dropping out of his own pocket to pimp this upcoming album. But with the way the world spins, the same time he drops that solo album, Eminem will come out with his new fat, bloated record that all the same people who thought he was a better MC during our stupid poll, will go out and buy that shit while MURS is buried behind the person who finished third on American Idol's solo album.


#10: IN DEFENSE OF T-PAIN
RM: You know, it's common meme to hate on T-Pain for his bionic microphone, and fair enough. But for people to go so far as to be like, "Snoop did it on his stupid song and it's just as good," or "Madd Skillz did the same shit on his 2007 wrap-up song," it's stupid. Yeah, anybody can sing into a robot, but they can't have T-Pain's pre-robot voice to make the same robot effect. He's the one who came out with this in the latest incarnation of the robot voice schtick, and he's the one who's best at it. The fact he looks like a crack dealer's teddy bear only makes it greater.
Honestly, it's not even an affront to rap music because it's straight pop. And more than that it's a variation on a straight pop music staple - the string arrangement. Music can have all sorts of subliminal effects with dissonance and all that corduroy patch egghead music theory bullshit, but usually pop music is considered "bubble gum" because it's that - stupidly pleasing. You get things stuck in your head you never knew were there. But the old '60s pop music, '70s pop music, a lot of stupid pop shit has hidden soothing strings. Dre uses them a lot. Fucking "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley was soaked with strings, and it's always nice calming background strings. What I'm getting at here is T-Pain's voice is basically a shitty R&B voice played through the robot with a string effect on it, which is why it works. Rick Ross' "The Boss" and Twista's "Creep Fast" are two songs I really shouldn't like nor do I want to like, but they get in my head. Which is what T-Pain's subliminal stringed voice is supposed to do, and that works its way into my brain and soothes me, against my will. Which is probably for the best. I mean, if it was all conscious lyrics over top of El-P beats, I'd be far too aware how I'm a motherfucking mindless zombie stumbling through my whole life, never moving anywhere ahead of the stagnancy I'm blackened heart deep in, and I'd probably have a blaze orange boxcutter up against your throat, hoping I can find gold inside your blood. You motherfuckers ought to be thankful for T-Pain.
MD: I cannot figure out an angle ("angle" is a fancy word for a pre-conceived lie that you plan to work the public with, i.e., our entire website) to approach Raven's T-Pain revelation from. My first reaction is that he's bullshitting like he always does, but then again, he wrote this a while ago, and with our new approach to list writing, we have no deadlines, so he wasn't trying to make our deadline, so maybe he is really sincere about his feelings for T-Pain.
Personally, I can't stand the guy. Out of all the robot R&B singers, he is by far the worst. He's the only one who definitely has no sort of singing voice outside of studio effects, which is why I have such a problem trying to figure out how the guy got a record contract in the first place. I mean, at some point in his life, he had to have some kind of demo that wasn't so layered in effects as his current product is. The only thing I can think of is that he is a guy that got his deal by literally sucking dick, which I guess isn't too hard to imagine. I am sure that's how most people get record contracts now. It's like that old Mr. Show skit where the one lawyer wanted to become a partner, but first he had to suck all of the other partners' dicks. That is what the mainstream music industry has devolved to: a bunch of old rich elite men getting their dicks sucked by young hungry muscular black men. Perhaps this Mandingo fantasy is what makes Raven like T-Pain. I don't know.