Note: I'm going to get around to putting up the comments sometime soon, so if you tried posting a comment, say, last December and are simply fucking dying to see it, bear with a little while longer, 'kay? I'm also going to use the word 'fuck' a lot.
Fact: the Sapporo Silver Cup -- 6,100 won for them shits; yeah, that's how I roll -- is impossible to pour into a glass without dripping all over the floor like me when I'm taking a shower and suddenly realize I left the towel in the linen closet*. Death, taxes, and the Sapporo Silver Cup wetting the floor. You can't learn that shit on the Internet. Until now, I mean.
"Hi, my name is Dwight. I like Hip-Hop. I dig it so much, I capitalize that shit, like the word Providence in old books like Robinson fucking Crusoe, nah'mean? Not that junk you hear on the radio all the time; I like that old boom bap, you know? That real shit. That bust the way you feel shit. Y'heard? It's a way of LIFE. It can teach you how to eat your kids and beat your wife. Q-Tip said that. By the way, my favorite rap album of all time is Casual's Fear Itself. Either that or whatever Stereo MC's album has 'Connected**' on it."
I don't wanna stir up any sort of controversy here, but word is Cho Seung Hui had some serious Ilsan ties.
If you ever meet me (god knows you've thought about it; PS - I don't kiss on the first date unless you buy me a cocktail with an ingredient that sounds Italian), and I start quoting the Borat film and laughing to myself, please give me a break. I live in Korea, remember. That shit was just released on DVD last week. On the other hand, my Air Force 1s are back in style. Give me several years and these acid wash jeans will be, too. Zach Morris will forever be immortalized, then. More immortalized, I mean.
Epitaph: WHAT A WAY TO GO OUT, OUT LIKE A SUCKA
Dream: KRS ONE is nominated for an Oscar for portraying the Phantom of the Opera/Paradise (exactly which remains unclear), replete with a purple velvet suit, fedora, and cape. Cut to The Blastmaster swimming on the beach with Leo DiCaprio and two Victoria's Secret models. Cut to KRS doing the underwater boogie with one of said models, then suddenly realizing she's drowned. I need to see a shrink. It's either that or stop eating kimchi hot dogs at four in the morning before going to bed, and we all no that's not gonna happen anytime soon.
Personal: denz, my apologies for the whole deadbeat KFL debacle; TMH, holler at an awkward, soon-to-be 29-year-old white boy with acne; Mr. T, post something, you glorious bastard, you. PS - I took a friend to the Promised Land and it was a sausage fest of high school boys, I shit you not; K-Hot, I haven't had a slice of cheese pizza in a hot minute. Your presence is required this weekend. For we have many things to celebrate, real and imagined.
Are you there, God? It's me, Q-Tip.
NBA (aka Monsieur T's garlic and crucifix): Baron Davis is on steroids. Steroids! T-Mac looks old. In a good way. I like tuna. I like ice cream. Seeing Melo Man Ace*** and Allen "Your Movies Suck Now Anyway" Ivey mesh like fish nets? Let's just say I'm rethinking my culinary ignorance. The Denver Nuggets shall lead me to Nirvana, where I will feast upon ketchup covered cookies and fried shoelaces. Are you there, Toronto? It's me, Vince Carter. Wait, Kirk Hinrich got fined 25 Gs for chucking his mouthpiece into the stands in game 1 against Miami? Didn't Udonis "New Millenial Chuck Oakley" do the same thing last spring (Ben Grimm's The Thing, Singapore Sling)? Shit is almost literary. I bet Kaptain Kirk**** reads shit like The Turning of the Screw and Madame fucking Bovary. Props. On the real, though, James Pose = goon. Respect. If no Heat player throws it inside tomorrow, Ini Kamoze style (fuck, Dwyane, butt 'em with your fucking shoulder if you have to), I'm gonna buy season one of Gilmour Girls and call it a night. Similarly, If I see a "Running of the Bulls" headline on any planet other than Mars, shit's gonna get REAL serious. Venom is in Spider-Man 3 for like 10 minutes and dies. That's a metaphor.
Basubaru: The Sox swept the Yankees, it's the Milk-Man, I got game like Ewing style. Daisuke is sorta cute, in a "that hat makes you look like a retarded baby" kind of way. A-Rod is on steroids. Steroids!
Ketchup: Was a popular condiment and it still is.
Memo to Korean sports programmers: it wouldn't hurt you to show a few playoff games now and then, capice? Granted, I enjoy the sublime beauty of Cha Yoo-Ram playing pool and some women's volleyball -- Pink Spiders represent -- every now and then, but c'mon. I hear Steve Nash likes bibimbab! Throw me a bone. Fuck it, this deserves its own, vitriolic post.
Memo to publisher: "Blood, Sweat, and Eye Water" as a title is on point, dog. Feel me!
Publisher's memo: I'm sorta feeling "I Hope You Choke On Tangerine Rinds," actually.
Memo to publisher2: It's not like that anymore. Besides, I was shitfaced in a PC bang when I came up with that.
Publisher's memo2: But it's got something. It's got legs. Like a fucking Brazilian kickboxer.
Memo to publisher3: Don't play me, Evan. This is my dream we're talking about here. It's "Blood, Sweat, and Eye Water" or nothing. Or nothing. You hear me? Get what I'm saying!
Publisher's memo3: How many real hip-hoppers in the place right about now?
Memo to publisher4: you win. You so fucking win.
June 11, 2021: I hope You Choke On Tangerine Rinds goes on sale.
Closing: I'm completely out of my mind. In a good way. In a Good Way.
* Additional fact: I have no linen closet.
** By no means am I saying 'Connected' is a bad song, btw.
*** I've created 3 unfuckingbelievable, Jack Horner approved, great nicknames in my time (4 if you include K-Hot), and they are: Ill Mare (Amare Stoudamire), Prince Paul (Chris), and Melo Man Ace (Carmelo Anthony; although, it would work a hell of a lot better if his jersey number were 1 ). Give me some dap.
**** Make that 5
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