RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Wednesday, February 6

$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.

Saturday, February 2

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)
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:
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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Friday, February 1

NFL WK 22: the stupid fucking Super Bowl

Man, I had no idea how to really go about doing my final bullshit NFL weekly post, because no retard science can really interest me in this game. A few weeks back, I was in first in some local classic rock station's stupid contest to win a flat screen DVD bullshit set-up, but the Giants caused me to flame out, meaning I will never have a $1200 TV now (because I ain't spending that much money on some shit I just sit there and stare at like some zombie faggot, like I got real shit I could be doing other than fucking my own brain up happily at a high price tag), so it's still my shitty old school 32 inch motherfucker from 1990-something that my bro-in-law gave us for free as a present, which will be our TV again for another few years. (Oh yeah, some other dude gave us a nice non-new flat technology TV, but it was too big for the wardrobe cabinet my grandfather made that we use as our TV cabinet, so I gave it to some other folks who didn't have no TV at all... trickle down economics man. Fuck a tax rebate, they ought to just make rich fuckers put a bunch of stuff outside their gated communities for middle class fuckers to have, and then middle class fuckers could put all their old shit at the strip malls for poor people to get bused out and have. And then the poor people could burn all their old useless shit in abandoned buildings and the government could provide beer, those little cheap ass "drinks" that come in colors not flavors in fake ass plastic barrels with aluminum foil tops, and slimy red hot dogs by the dozens.)
But finally what I decided, not only to make a chickenshit salad post out of a chickenshit attitude towards this Super Bowl game, is to list out who I was pulling for and against, as individuals. I had thought about doing that same old corny Top 8 list with the helmets like all year, but what would I do? Offense, defense, special teams, and coaching? Man, that's fucking played. Every two-bit newspaper cockhole is doing that shit for Sunday's paper as we speak, so fuck that noise. I got my two lists of ten, each spot is either negative or positive points for my rooting ability, and by the end of this fucker I guess I'll figure out what I'm pulling for. I'll start at #10s and work up to #1s, and we'll let positivity start over negativity because I've been listening to a lot of Guru lately...
#10 DUDE I'M ROOTING FOR - GIANTS DEFENSIVE END OSI UMENYIORA. He's obviously by his name some sort of crazy foreigner who probably slow-cooked goats in his dorm room in college, and then John Dawson hipped me to this story of some chick talking about how ol' Osi likes to shit on chicks as a sexual kick. Man, in this time of everybody being all jaded and cynical about being American, what with wars and full of shit politicians running amok on cable TVto get our "vote" like two years from now or whenever that shit actually finally happens, it's good to just remember the American dream. Here's some African fucker who probably twisted scrap lead wire into toy cars as a youth, sniffed jenkem as a teenager, but made it to America, where he makes millions of dollars for chasing whiteboys with balls around, and gets to shit on full-grown American women for his own slimy pleasure. It's not only a slice of the American Dream, but it's a tale of African comeuppance as well. God bless motherfuckin' Osi Umenyiora. I hope he shits all over Ghiselle Souvilihana or whatever that model slut's name is that's got Brady sperms in her urethra. (Plus one point for the Giants, putting me at +1 a Giants fan this Sunday)
#10 DUDE I'M ROOTING AGAINST - PATRIOTS LINEBACKER JUNIOR SEAU. When Junior Seau was the only Samoan dude other than Mosi Tatupu in the NFL, and he played in San Diego where it was sunny and California and you could easily imagine the Boo-Yaa Tribe and all of Afa & Sika's nephews hanging out in the parking lot, lifting weights and giving each other tribal/cholo tattoos, Seau had this certain gangsta ass appeal as the crazy linebacker dude. But now that he's been playing for 29 years, including three or four in his latest post-retirement stint, hoping to clutch at a Super Bowl ring, and every NFL team seems to have like five former WAC players with names long on vowels and short on hard consonants, Junior Seau just seems like an old fucker who won't go away. I could give a fuck less how great a linebacker he was, there is nothing less impressive than old superstars riding some young players' collective jocks for a professional team sports title. I hope not only that Seau doesn't get his ring, but he tears his ACL or some shit and can never make another half-assed "Let me play like seven plays but get 39 camera shots standing around on the sideline being an intense veteran leader" attempt at a ring. Fuck him. (Minus one point for the Patriots, putting me at +2 for the Giants.)
#9 AGAINST - PATRIOTS COACH BILL BELICHICK. I don't really loathe Belichick like I have loathed other NFL coaches, I'm just sick of hearing people talk about him. It's gotten boring. I mean, I hated Bill Walsh and Jimmy Johnson far more than I could ever probably hate Belichick, but at the same time, that whole genius sweatshirt monotone interviews puts everybody on the injury report shit is getting tired. He should switch up his schtick and like want to wear suits on the sideline next year, but wear really flamboyant ass suits that Bryan Cox picks out for him, and do his media engagements in a fake British accent. (Minus two points for the Patriots, putting me at +4 for the Giants.)
#9 FOR - PATRIOT KICKER STEPHEN GOSTKOWSKI. Adam Vinateri was considered the most clutch stupid kicker ever, and maybe the first ever to get in the Hall of Fame (I think there ain't no homo ass kickers there right now, at least not dudes who were kicking specialists but probably some old school fuckers who were like linebacker/wide receiver/kicker), so when he got allowed to be a free agent fucker in Indy, the Pats went out and drafted this kid. He has done pretty well, and I like the fact he has one of those corny ass ethnic white person last names. You don't see enough of those anymore, what with rap music causing us all to fuck betwixt the races. Plus, half the kids nowadays take their mom's last name. It's nice to see a spunky little white dude named Gostkowski kicking extra points for the Patriots. I also think, again because of rap music, I have an affinity for guys with "-owski" names, because it used to be slang that a dick was called "Jimbrowski" or "Jimmy". UVA, back then, had an offensive lineman named Jim Dombrowski, and being I was young, I assumed he probably had the biggest dick ever. And I guess any time a football player is named Someshitowski, to this day, I assume he's packing a Haitian Special Police baton third leg, and what guy isn't stoked for another dude who's dragging such a sexual specimen around between his thighs? We would all have one if we could wish for it. (Plus two points for the Patriots, making it +2 for the Giants.)
#8 FOR - PATRIOTS WIDE RECEIVER WES WELKER. Stupid looking, average build white dude becomes superstar, just by being meticulous about doing what he's supposed to do with the Xs and Os. He ain't fast, flashy, or flamboyant. He's a stupid white dude still playing wide receiver in the NFL in 2008. It might be an unconscious deeply embedded racism within me, or it could just be the same contrarian asshole nature that loves black punters, but I will always be stoked for a white wide receiver in this day and age. Except Joe Jurivicius. I hate that fucker. (Plus three points for the Patriots, putting them ahead +1 in who I will apply my cosmic energy towards.)
#8 AGAINST - GIANTS OFFENSIVE LINEMAN CHRIS SNEE. To be honest, I just don't like Snee because he's Tom Coughlin's son-in-law. What's the fucking chances you'd get some chick pregnant whose dad is an NFL coach, and then end up being NFL caliber enough to play for that team? Slim and none, that's the chances. There's some athletic illuminati bullshit going on behind all this, and I can't really think of a lot more to it because I have yet to buy an old copying machine from a surplus store where the machine came from NFL headquarters and inside on the glass was a detailed flowchart and description of how NFL power structure since Bill Walsh powered his way to the top of the behind-the-curtain hierarchy shapes up, and where Coughlin fits in this, and what '70s NFL team coach or executive Chris Snee has lizard bloodlines to. (Minus 3 points for the Giants, making it +4 the Patriots.)
#7 AGAINST - GIANTS COACH TOM COUGHLIN. See above. Also realize that Coughlin is a born again holy roller who was as hardcore about his players being born again in the spirit of Jesus themselves as he was about them being five minutes early to meetings in Jacksonville. I doubt that's changed entirely since he went to New York, though the big storyline is how he changed so much this year, became so much more easy-going and shit. I guess either the zionist influence of Jew York weakened his will, or just the overall devilish influences of such a Babylonian metropolis did it, but whichever way, it would be funny if God (haha, I capitalized it like it not only exists but I should revere it) smote him down. Although his red ass face in that Packers game was funny, like he went skiing with goggles on and got sunburn everywhere except around his eyes. (Minus 4 pionts for the Giants, making it +8 for the Patriots.)
#7 FOR - GIANTS KICKER LAWRENCE TYNES. Damn, two kickers on the For list. Tynes is some sort of white foreigner (meaning either Norwegian or Australian, but I can't remember which), and he got into drunken fistfights as a Kansas City Chief. The ONLY way a professional football kicker can be awesome is if they are a drunken foreigner. Bonus points if you never played American college football (which I don't think Tynes ever did), and double bonus points if he's violated the NFL's drug policy by using recreational pharmaceuticals (which I have no idea whether Tynes has done, but I'm sure if he hasn't violated the test, it's because they weren't asking his piss the right questions.) (Plus 4 points for the Giants, cutting it to +4 for the Patriots.)
#6 FOR - GIANTS WIDE RECEIVER PLAXICO BURRESS. That "guarantee" interview thing from this week was the biggest non-story there ever was. Like, if that's bulletin board material, then the Patriots ought to just start sharing peanut butter pie recipes on the bulletin board too, because they're obviously over-sensitive faggots. Plaxico didn't say anything really shitty; he just straight up had confidence in his team, like you would want somebody to do. I guess Brady made a huffaw at the fact he only said the Pats would score 17, but he said 23 to 17. It's not like he said, "Man, those guys suck. We should be up by 3 touchdowns at halftime, and coast through the second half, flirting with dancers on the sideline. Get your popcorn ready." I also like it because I don't think Plaxico has practiced all year long, because of an ankle injury he's been nursing every day of the week except Sunday. You gotta respect a cat who's got his hustle together, doing as little as possible to stay paid, but doing just enough to keep from getting replaced. (Plus five points for the Giants, putting them back ahead +1.)
#6 AGAINST - PATRIOTS OWNER ROBERT KRAFT. I have read enough Howard Zinn essays on Industrial Age barons to know not to fucking root for guys whose last name is things that are in the store (or the store itself). Those types of old rich white dudes would gladly rape my children as they ate fancy hard crackers with a pate made of my ground brains. I know I cannot trust a guy named Kraft, and the fact that I think the previous owner was from the Gillette family makes it even worse. You know it was some Trading Places dollar bet bullshit, but instead of the wacky negro and the straight-laced innocent pawn white guy getting their comeuppance for feelgood movie shenanigans, Gillette and Kraft had Billy Ray Valentine and whatever Dan Akroyd's name was fellating each other for rolls of quarters that kept falling through a grate underneath them, but they would just fellate each other harder, hoping to get something. And old Gillette and Kraft were laughing it up, and Gillette goes, "You were Robert old pal, those two really do enjoy giving another man's penis a waxing, here's the Patriots." But then Kraft took care of tipping the caddies at the country club the next morning on their golf date. (Minus 5 for the Patriots, making it +6 for the Giants.)
#5 AGAINST - PATRIOTS QUARTERBACK TOM BRADY. It has been said to not hate the player, but rather hate the game. Except I rather love the game of football, so due to these special circumstances, I am required by personal oath to hate the player in this instance. There is nothing glowing that hasn't been already said about Tom Brady somewhere, and there is nothing hateful that you haven't heard one of your drunk ass friends who is a Jets, Dolphins, Colts, Raiders, or Steelers fan already say. So I will just leave it at I am actively rooting against Tom Brady, for the rest of his life. If he becomes a politician, I hope he loses. If his children play little league baseball, I hope they lose. If he plays shuffleboard in Florida upon retirement, I hope he always loses. If he gets skin cancer, I hope he loses then too. I want him to lose, all the time, forever. (Minus 6 points for the Patriots, so now it's +12 for the Giants.)
#5 FOR - FORMER GIANTS LINEBACKER LAWRENCE TAYLOR. If the Giants are in the Super Bowl, that means the real L.T. is gonna be around, circulating amongst parties, hopefully getting all coked up so his ultra-gacked up white eyeballs are popping out of his dark sweaty face, and he gets crazy Arizonan lingerie models sexed up. And if the Giants win the Super Bowl, that extends L.T. time by a couple of weeks. He'll be celebrating, even if by himself, until at least St. Patrick's Day. And as a kid who came of age in the '80s, L.T. represents a certain ethos of that time - flashy car and dangling earring, drugged up yet able to hold it down, and heading to the top only to crash back down about halfway back to where you started, which is still way above what you were back in the day, and plus you have awesome stories from your uber-decadent time at the top. I like that, and I like L.T. because of that, and it gives me hope that one day I can have sex with conjoined twins while we're all on E. (Plus 6 points for the Giants, and they are running away with it at +18 now.)
#4 FOR - GIANTS LINEBACKER ANTONIO PIERCE. Pierce played for a couple of season in Washington for the Redskins, and he was the no-nonsense, offensive schematic-reading, reverse quarterback style middle linebacker that today's gimmick-ridden NFL defenses require. Except most linebackers are protein-fed halfwits. Not Antonio Pierce though, and that time the Redskins decided not to even make a meager match to the Giants offer, being Pierce was a restricted free agent or some shit at the time (or maybe he just wanted to stay in Washington, I can't remember), that is one of about a thousand times I dreadfully remember every morning I wake up the fan of a team ownered by Dan Snyder. (Plus 7 points for the Giants, making it +25... a blowout.)
#4 AGAINST - GIANTS QUARTERBACK ELI MANNING. I am sick of the Manning family. I am sick of Peyton, obviously, but also sick of Eli's coming of age at the end of this season, and I am double sick of down home Archie Manning interviews about his boys. I'm sick of knowing Cooper Manning is an insurance salesman. I'm sick of hearing that Eli Manning has some girlfriend that he treats like a peasant, forcing her to sit in the crowd with everyday NFL fan riffraff (like myself). I'm sick of looking at Eli's face in the paper or on the TV screen and thinking, "Take Peyton, make 12% younger, plus 4% more Down's syndromey." I am fucking sick to death of Manning brother hype and hyperbole and over-exposure. With Peyton gone, Eli gets all my Manning hate, plus a little extra for being stupid ass fucknosed Eli Manning. Oh man... if there's ever a Colts/Giants Super Bowl, I'm gonna rent a Ryder and Tim McVeigh the fucking pre-game festivities in hopes of putting a stop to it, or at least having me jailed deep in a dark building where I don't have to witness any of it once it happens. (Minus 7 points for the Giants, shaving it back to +18 for them.)
#3 AGAINST - PATRIOTS LINEBACKER TEDY BRUSCHI. You know what, I understand dude had a stroke and had to re-learn how to talk and walk and all that. My real problem is why did he have to learn to look like such a goomba fratboy cocksucker again too? I have never been a big fan of the Overachiever label when it's applied to a player on a team full of guys who all want to come there just to win... it seems so hokey and contrived. And Bruschi seems contrived too. I mean, I know he's got kids and a family and risked destroying their lives if he had come back and gotten brain dead from being a stroke dude who wasn't ready for full contact football, but it all worked out. Which further makes me think there's Illuminati football shit going on. How the fuck can a guy have a stroke and come back to play in the Super Bowl as a contributor? Don't tell me that's how much heart he has, because I remember Hulk Hogan having that much heart, and his heart wasn't really that much in the for-real ways. The whole Patriots schtick seems so contived and Vince McMahon-esque, although the Giants build-up as super underdog who can't lose on the road ever since they shut down the Redskins on the goal line that game forever back seems just as contrived. Like Tiny Lister rolling in as this unstoppable force but Hulk Hogan legdrops his ass into submission, and then they blast patriotic songs and people wave American flags and buy things on their way home. (Minus 8 points for the Patriots, making it +26 for the Giants.)
#3 FOR - GIANTS RUNNING BACK AHMAD BRADSHAW. Seeing this nobody late round draft pick rookie running back busting through motherfuckers in Green Bay, the paint actually chipping off his helmet it was so cold, that was some old school ass shit. The thing is, this guy was supposed to be a can't miss prospect, except he's been a chronic fuck-up. He came to UVA (near me) as a blue chip recruit, but they cut their ties with him because he was a hood. He transferred to Marshall, moving down in college status, and was a small town superstar, but even there, he was about to get into some shit for stealing games or something trifling like that out of somebody else's dorm room. I mean, how the fuck do you get into trouble at Marshall on their football team? That's where Randy Moss went, and I think he used to rape chicks on the regular back then. So Bradshaw left Marshall after his junior year of eligibility, with two children already paternity tested to him, and took a shot at the NFL draft, hoping he could get paid and not just end up like every other broke ass shoulda been brother with multiple kids working construction part-time until they decide to sell drugs and then go to jail in towns everywhere. It is a sad cycle. Except the Giants took a shot on Bradshaw, and he's come in late this year and fucking kicked ass, mostly because his style is a lot like Tiki Barber's, but without all the corporate voice coming out the smiley mouth, and excess baggage of being the veteran leader on offense. Bradshaw has made a name for himself in the past two months, and I'd love to see him blow up Timmy Smith style in the Super Bowl, win the MVP, and get paid out the ass because of it. Then we can all enjoy his native hoodlumism shine bright on a national stage. (Plus 8 points for the Giants, so they ahead +34 points.)
#2 FOR - PATRIOTS RUNNING BACK LAURENCE MARONEY. I am always a fan of running backs like Maroney or Edgerrin James or Marshawn Lynch who look like they would be original members of the Boot Camp Clique. But a few things make Maroney even more enjoyable than the others. Right off the bat, he spells his first name in a classy black guy way like Laurence Fishburne does, automatically making him seem better than the rest. But most importantly, dude is obsessed with Kool-Aid. He has Kool-Aid tattoos, a Kool-Aid pendant, all because his nickname is Kool-Aid, but fuck my name is Raven and I don't have that shit tatted up on me and in diamonds on my neck and shit. And Kool-Aid is some broke ass kid shit. I lived on that stuff forever (my recipe was, oddly enough, just like Maroney's when asked on media day - "water and sugar"), and the only thing more ghetto than Kool-Aid is those generic Kool-Aid packets which never really mixed right like Kool-Aid does and you'd get weird little clumps of shit in your drink that tasted like some Sweet Tarts had taken a shit like a fish does. The fact that a major NFL running back drinks Kool-Aid... I don't know, it makes me happy. Though I think I read he customized his car with the Kool-Aid man too, and I seen a few of those themed donks on the Donk magazine, and they are stupid wack. I hope he doesn't have stitched ostrich skin Kool-Aid men in his ride. Although, to be honest, even if he did, just having some retardedly customized nonsense like that in a tricked out car would make him better than most other football players with their very uncreative hood-rich ways. (Plus 9 points for the Pats, cutting it to +25 for the Giants.)
#2 AGAINST - GIANTS DEFENSIVE END MICHAEL STRAHAN. Strahan is such a chump, and I think most people realize this. Whereas previous awesome future Hall of Famers like Reggie White would sometimes come across as odd, you'd still have people in real life explaining to you how they were the greatest ever. Not with Strahan though. Everybody kinda knows he's a full of shit chump ass. Even reading the paper today, the columnist guy I was reading referred to him as a "potential Hall of Famer". You'd think him being the all-time sacks in a year leader after Favre laid down for him that one time, he'd be a definite. But his laying out of training camp because he's a lazy fucker gimmick has grown tired, as has his "let me do a really stiff-legged soul train dance line routine whenever I'm near a quarterback who falls down" celebration bullshit. Even his fucking ex-wife suggested he might be a homo. The sad thing is he's already done a couple years of "my team is not in the playoffs so let me sit in on the pre-game show" interning already, so he'll probably STILL be on the stupid television every week even after he stops being an annoying closeted football player. (Minus 9 points for the Giants, down to +16 for them still though.)
#1 AGAINST - FORMER GIANTS QUARTERBACK PHIL SIMMS. Phil Simms is the epitome of boring. He could make redneck guys holed up in the middle of a week-long meth binge fall asleep. I'm not sure who has the Super Bowl this year, but I sort of almost hope it's CBS so he and Greg Gumbel can bore America to death, and then hopefully the Giants will get crushed, forcing stupid Simms to abandon his feigned non-bias, and he'll something really flagrant and out-of-line, execpt nobody will notice it because he will do it in such a quiet condescending voice that it will sound like a gay man's description as to how to properly need a homemade loaf of rosemary olive oil bread. I feel sorry for Chris Simms, because you know he catches a ton of shit - and probably always has - for being Phil Simms son. I mean really, is there a more pretentious fucker who analysists the football than him? (Minus 10 points for the Giants, making it only +6 for the Giants.)
#1 FOR - PATRIOTS OFFENSIVE LINEMAN LOGAN MANKIN. Mankin is a mainstay on my fake ass Madden franchise of the Saints, because he is a giant fu manchu ass wispy haired white offensive lineman. He looks like the type of guy who would've been an MMA fighter back when MMA was more the dream of guys who trained in meat warehouses (talking on the early days when Tank Abbott and Oleg Taktarov were stars) and it seemed like something a good Clint Eastwood movie could be based on, not this pseudo-sport Brazilian dudes rolling around holding each other and then slipping around and one guy quickly taps out in violently homoerotic fashion. But, as if Logan Mankin wasn't already awesome, being such a white boy, and from Fresno state, where you can only assume academics were secondary to beer bongs and blowjobs, he's now, as part of some sort of Unabomber code of solidarity with the other O-linemen, sporting a giant beard that makes him look like a cross between homeless Vietnam veteran and Nordic warlord. The only thing better than rooting for Logan Mankin, is hoping he pulls a Barrett Robins and disappears the night before the game into Mexico for a drug-fueled romp to ruin his career. Except I would expect Mankin to not be a punk ass like Robins and claim the made up psychological disorder of bi-polarity, and instead Logan Mankin would just become the leader of some village where he runs a human smuggling business, a cockfighting arena, and sips on expensive champagne at his VIP table nightly at the donkey fuck show. (Plus 10 points for the Patriots, putting them over the top by +4. Except fuck that. I could care less about either of these fucking teams, or this game. Luckily, the satellite sound system in my ride with detachable robot box to plug into house speakers is broadcasting the game in like 10 different languages, so I'll probably just sit in my truck in the yard, getting blasted, and listening to the Super Bowl in Korean or some bullshit.)