Monday, October 27, 2008

I don't wear tight pants

They make my nuts hurt. That being said... If i did, I'd be all up on this video. Fuck it, I still like it, no matter how retarded it is. Maybe because its so lysdelexic.

Get familiar! White boys are trying to Kill...Oh wait a minute we knew that already

Get familiar!

I’m not really trying to write my whole post on how I’m a black man that’s not all that down for Obama right now. Don’t get it twitted, I need my president to be able to raise his hands above his head and I don’t nedd my ice president to be a pitbull with lipstick or whatever the fuck, But I’m also not under the mistaken impression that apparently most of D.C. is under; I don’t believe all the slaves will be free, reparations will be in full effect, and I’ll get twenty acres and a mule when Obama gets in the white house. That being said, I’m not hating profusely on any black man making his cheddar, supporting his family, and not giving a fuck about what Mister Charlie thinks or says about him. Yet and still, Real life playa of this playa hater game knows that cheese crumb snatching bitches come on the regular when you walk with your nutsacks in your hands.

To wit.

This shit ain’t news man! Crazy red neck cracker boys from down south been trying to ice educated black men since forever! What’s news is when white people peep it for the first time. We been saying this shit forever, first black president better have a mexican vice president or that niggas gonna get shot at his acceptance speech. Of course it’s not the third grade drop out from under funded public school drop outs that Obama really has to worry about. They get close to the president and it’s a stain on the Secret service’s rep. And they can’t tolerate that. Nah, it’s the elite Ivy league boys and girls, his classmates that he was smarter and more focused than. It’s the professor’s he didn’t manage to charm and so had to out perform, it’s the rest of the talented tenth who didn’t pick Obama to lead the pack. These will be the real threats when he’s in office, not the 21st century Dukes of Hazzard.

I still don’t trust that Obama. I hear he converts with terriers.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

I wish I was a trustafarian...

Actually I don't, but my man Roots Manuva dropped that desire/joke on his most recent album, Slime and reason. Truth be told the album is just decent. But cat's been holding it down so long his decent is tighter than most of the shit that's released recently. Even the new Streets album makes me a little homie didn't try to hard to make bangers because he knew no one would buy the album. On the real, the album that's been kicking my tuckus on the regular for the past little bit is The Bug's London Zoo. So why am I mad at the cat?

For one, London Zoo? That's your title for all these mad cool vocal black scientist running shit in the u.K? What the fuck does that make the white boy who corrals them all? The zokeeper? I know, I'm reading more into it than necessary. Right? Actually, I thought the same thing until I peeped this video off of xlr8r. The freeze frame of dude with his gun finger's in Warrior queen's dome was bad enough but then his approach to her, laughing at her day gig... Yeah, real talk I'm sensitive to race shit, I work with some nutty ass white people, and yeah he did put her on so props for that, but there is some arrogance some white boy strut off the dude that I can't really get off of.

Don't get it twitted, Man puts a solid album together. Peep the track. But I ain't buying him any drinks if I see him at the bar, that's all I'm saying right now. Warrior Queen might make me switch over to big girls if I catch her...just kidding.

Real talk though.

I nominate the Dark Doctor

Anyone who wonders why I’m a New Doctor Who head simply does not know me, or good television. Rooted in over three decades of Science fiction Doctor is to the U.K. what Star Trek might have been to the U.S if it had stayed n the air…and Shatner had learned how to act. By definition it is my favorite genre of storytelling, the serial. It’s damn near impossible to get closer to the modern epic than to generate a host of characters developed by a host of writers in multiple formats for audience that may never meet. Plus the ideas on the show hurt my head, stone statues that live outside of reality and can only touch you when they’re not being observed, the last dregs of humanity being transformed into sociopathic balls of technology desiring the death of their predecessors, the family of blood, a skin swapping scarecrow wielding intergalactic nuclear family that feeds off of time energy (Whatever that is), the shadows f forest that now live in the universe’s largest library, and of course, the Daleks.

Doctor Who is like the X-men in that when its written poorly it drowns in its own history. I’ve seen some of the old episodes and while I’ a fan of some of those dated gems, others I’m glad I missed as a child. But the David Tennet/Russel Davies Doctor’s all make me tingle on the inside like a schoolgirl on her first date. But now Russell is gone and I hear tell David Tennet might not make it much past 2010. So who should the new Doctor be? I’m not fan enough to say but there is a rumor floating around that has my nipples hard. If the moniker has not already been assigned let me be the first to call him, the Dark Doctor.

For those of you unfamiliar, let me explain the plot device/serial extender that makes such a switch from pasty faced (but cute) David Tennet to Patterson Joseph possible. The doctor is an alien who re-generates a new body and a new sort of psychology whenever he’s mortally injured. There’s been about 11 different Doctor’s since 70 something. Now peep the new doctor, maybe that is.

Never been a dark doctor before. Yeah, I’m gassed. Maybe they’ll let me write a story for them. Something about alternative dimension entities that wish to destroy the virus of currency before it infects their reality. Yeah, like I said I’ve been writing.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

80's black bodies dominate the fillmore...but we knew that already

Imagine your big sister was a back-up dancer for Salt-n-pepa back in the day of the yellow hair and crisscross jackets. Imagine she wouldn’t let you copy her moves but you’d sneak into practices and sit still and quiet, memorizing every isolated head jerk ad wild rotation of hip and head. Imagine you ran back home and practiced these things in the mirror until you got them as right as your imagination could make them. A few years later you watched S1W’s gear and knew it to be super duper fly.

Question: What would be your ideal job today?

Answer: Backup dancer for Santogold.

And the gas? The thing that still has my head spinning? It’s that the little hipster white children eat it up like pop rocks on the day their daddy told them he was getting a house of his own but he'd still love them.

Yeah, I’ve been gone for a while. I’m writing books.