HOW TO KILL A COLD IN 24 HOURS

Nobody has time to get sick and take a day off anymore, espeically in this wack-ass economy. Today I had to go to traffic court in C(ount)O(n)B(eing)B(usted) County to pay a ridiculous speeding fine, race back home before noon to finish an article by deadline, pay two bills, collect one work check and return a "favor" of sorts to someone at my old job who tried to get away with something shady. I must say that even with the small financial loss, which can always be replaced, today was a 100% success as far as a daily checklist goes. And I did it all with a severely nasty allergy cold--the kind where you sneeze violently and uncontrollably out of nowhere and for no reason, with leaking eye sockets and nostrils, red corneas and pale skin. I felt like I was the color green all damn day.

I'm something of an accidental health nut, and with the exception of beer, I really don't get down with a lot of mainstream food that tends to affect one's body. The crazy thing is that it's usually by accident. For instance, I hate cheese, with the exception of mozzarella on pizza. I'll drink a milkshake every few months, but I don't dig the taste of milk. And I'll be damned if I eat anything made of cream, from mayo to ranch to alfredo sauce. Again, this is not about health; it's all taste and preference.

Either way, I still get quickie-sick for a day when the seasons start to change, every year, like clockwork. So here's how I get rid of the bug when it bites.


WATER: The Essential Ingredient


You're supposed to drink 8 glasses every day anyway, but if you really want to shake a quickie-sick cold, you've gotta flush your system and stay hydrated. Especially if you're going to have 1 or 2...


HOT TODDYS: The Fun Part


Mix hot tea, brown liquor (preferably Courvoisier, Crown Royal or Jack Daniels), honey and lemon in a big-ass coffee mug and drank that ish. Good times!


CHINESE FOOD: Tastes Good, Seems Healthy


You've gotta avoid the fried stuff and anything creamy, because like milk, it carries bacteria through your body and prolongs the recovery process. But Hot & Sour soup is always a winner. While you're at it, you might as well get a bottle of...


SAKE: The Asian Wino's Hot Toddy


Sometimes this stuff can be a bit much to bear, but when you can't breath you can't smell the vinegar, so it loses the funky stench and just tastes like sour hot wine. Which still isn't great, but it does wonders for the chest.


ACAI JUICE: Antioxidants Are Gangsta


I've always liked the term "free radical." It seems like something that I could call myself. But these FRs are not good to keep around, so stuff like pomegranate juice, blueberries, cherries, dark chocolate, green or white tea, green veggies and other "superfoods" will wash away the ugliness that may have been hiding out in your bloodstream.


JALAPENO PEPPERS: Man Up


Eucalyptus, mint and peppers are great ways to jumpstart your nasal passages and breathing patterns. I've tried those little Vicks inhalers that look like suppositories, but the look you receive when you put one in your nostril and sniff it is enough to make you ashamed of yourself when you've done nothing wrong. I rock with the vaporizing balm, although it does kinda feel like Crisco when applying it. Let your lady do the honors; you'd do the same for her, right?


MULTI VITAMINS: For Extra Kick


You don't have to go buy a bottle of Centrum or anything, but having Vitamin C and Zinc is essential to this thing. Orange Juice is great, and Vitamin Water is aiight, but a supplement in the form of a big-ass pill works wonders. Trust your homie.


CHLOR-TRIMETON: Because Drugs Can Be Good


When allergies are kicking your pale ass around the house, you need to be practical. When you've had it with snotty tissue and brain-blowing sneezes, even the most hardcore naturalist will surrender to pharmaceuticals. I can't do Benadryl for the same reason I won't drink "lean." If I want to sleep, I'll just lay down. Benadryl works and all, but the drowsy side effect takes your entire day away and renders your alarm clock useless the next day. Claritin isn't bad, but it takes forever. Which reminds me; even when you become impatient and see no immediate results...


THINK POSITIVELY: Don't Worry; Be Happy


Maybe you can't wish yourself better, but you certainly can't expect to recover when you lay around, suffering, whining and talking about how miserable you are, even if you are. My thing is to subconsciously repeat to myself, "It's almost gone." By the time I'm tired of repeating the line or just forget to remember it, I'm usually feeing better. Some Bob Marley will also help, but no smoking, if you can help it.


This life is yours, in sickness and health. There's no use in giving up 24 hours just because of a 24-hour bug. Keep your mind and spirit healthy, listen to some good Hip-Hop and follow all of my advice. You'll be better than you've ever been by the second day, or double your money back. Oh yeah, what money?

Just take the advice, fool. You don't have to do all of the above, but make sure you drink water and pick whatever other trick you think best suits your lifestyle. Exercise can't hurt either, I guess; you can just dance like the dude below. Just get healthy, and don't say I never tried to told ya something good. Think about it: if Hip-Hop is to continue to survive we've gotta live longer and better lives.




If I missed anything or you have any tips, send 'em on.

THE DUMP OF DEATH

The Dump of Death? | Movies & TV | SPIKE.com

Shout out to "The Doo-Doo Man," who obviously has no self-respect that a check can't buy. I know I've made some mean and vicious deposits in the early part of this year, but nothing came close to feeling as if I were on the verge of losing my life. And is that really true about Elvis and ol' boy from The Bee Gees? Dag. R.I.P. to them, I guess.

HYPHY IS SCREWED

The news is that Bay Area rap star Mistah F.A.B. is "BEEFING" with the local Oakland Hip-Hop station, KMEL-FM. This is just another chain of events that sparked the creation of this new post, oh my brothers and sisters. Let's investigate the phenomenon of drug-promoting music and its accompanying culture as they relate to specific places on the American map.

Whether I'm a big fan of "Hyphy" music or not, you've gotta admit that it's dead, at least outside of Oakland's ungerground rap scene. As long as we're being honest here (and I don't know why we wouldn't be), most regional sounds that were sold as the next big things a few years ago are all dead.

I mean, look at "Screwed" music, and compare it to what happened with Hyphy. Both of these subgenres of Hip-Hop have been in existence long before some rich white dude decided to cut a mainstream check and put them both on. Representing Alabama, Georgia and Tennessee, I can attest to the fact that I've been hearing screwed mixtapes for close to fifteen years via cousins that visited Texas in the summer. It's nowhere near new. But what was new a few years ago was when Houston rappers Mike Jones, Chamillionaire, Paul Wall, Slim Thug and others started getting major record deals, one after another, all on the strength of a combined 12-month run of consecutive songs - all of which broke the local mold and went from regional to national recognition.

I admit, I was as proud as anybody else from the south that another state was finally getting its just due, as it were. But I also admit this: Screwed music sucks.





I never understood why people liked listening to rap songs that had been "screwed and chopped." Every time I've been forced to listen to any Screwed song for more than 15 seconds, it's always been depressing, sleep-inducing, boring and just... slow. Too damned slow. That shit would drive me to the depths of insanity if I ever got nabbed by terrorists and told that I'd be tortured with a 24-hour private Screwed and Chopped listening session if I don't snitch. I'd confess to all types of shit I've never even thought about doing to get out of that one. And I'd say that Gangsta Rap made me do it.


Once Screwed music got outside of its natural habitat, it was a wrap, because, like Hyphy, it was built upon pillars of salt, or should I say "snow." You can't expect a whole nation to become localized to your city unless the music is that good. Country music comes from Nashville, Bounce music and of course Jazz both come from New Orleans and The Blues were born in the Mississippi Delta. They all spread throughout their regions to national and worldwide ears, but there is a distinct difference: These subcultures are build around actual rhythms, beats, sounds, harmonies and melodies. Without great songs and plenty of great artists down for the artistic cause itself, it just doesn't happen. It's gotta be about the artform more than the afterparty, and both had better be better than anything experience previously if you expect the story to spread. And I'm not saying that Miles, Dizzy and Bird weren't getting loaded on the daily, because we all know how that story goes. But they were still great musicians.

Every city has it's own style that can't (and maybe shoudn't) be made global, especially when you add in the quietly kept secret that - gasp! - Screwed and Hyphy music are both really about doing massive amounts of drugs and being proud enough to sing and dance about it, out loud.

Compare and contrast: As the soundtrack to the lifestyle of codeine and promethazine abusers, Screwed Music was made for Texans who sip "syrup", the mixture of the two drugs combined with Sprite, Big Red soda or any other sweet, carbonated ghetto beverage. Rap artists, taking cues from the "slab rider" culture of Houston, drink it in public and continue to make songs glorifying its consumption, even after it killed one of its most famous rappers - Pimp C.




In Oakland, Hyphy was created as the musical companion to taking Ecstacy pills or "beans", and the subsequent erratic speech, dancing and general behavior. To be high on E-pills, therefore, was to be "hyphy." Some of the Hyphy stuff I heard was nowhere near wack, but it was always a bit too crunk for my blood. And you've gotta be high to want to do some SHIT LIKE THIS. "Go dumb," indeed...





I've pretty much held the same stance against Hyphy since I figured out what it was about. You can't have any type of positive message in a type of music that outright encourages drug use. Now before you even try it ("But what about Gangster Rap?"), I would argue that the social commentary that exists in the Thug Life style of Hip-Hop is necessary to show that people are economically suffering to the point that they would risk their lives and others' to make a dollar. So they pick up a gun and do horrible things.

I've always felt that if you make the terror of the gangster lifestyle look as ugly as it really is, you will save some people from ever wanting to enter it, even if you attract those who would wanted to be gangsters anyway. I never wanted to be a gangbanger after listening to N.W.A. - not once. But it was cool to hear their stories, accentuated by gun shots, excessive swearing and less-than-romantic ideas about women. To me, it's the same as watching No Country for Old Men; it's crazy, entertaining as hell and a great piece of art, even though it's gruesome to the point that I wouldn't have wanted to be in any character's shoes in real life.

The only way I'm convinced that a person can have any positive influence from Hyphy or Screwed music would be to suffer a complete meltdown, go through intensive rehabilitation and emerge from the ashes of doom like the Phoenix. Either that, or the artist just overdoses and dies, causing enough grief from fans and guilt in the hearts of close associates to spark a movement of sobriety, removing all the momentum from the power of the drugs and placing it back in the hands of the people to create things that don't cause mental damage and self-genocide.



It's my theory that the reason why TEXAS MIGHT BE DEAD and HYPHY IS REALLY DEAD is because you can't mix narcotics with your music and expect everyone to follow mindlessly forever like the living dead. Eventually, people wake up and realize they've been drugged. And then what?


But I can't front; THIS SONG is still dope. But if you listen closely, it's not all happy. Just listen to the chorus...

SOBRIETY IS DEAD

[Me, right now, after last night's horrible fourthmeal choice]


Still recovering from last night. Here's some free advice: Don't eat collard greens at 4am, on top of 100 ounces of Heineken and two shots of Patron. Your stomach will lock up like San Quentin and you'll be in bed for 24 hours, like me right now.

Speaking of getting overthrowed, here is a clip that I've been waiting for, even though I didn't expect to see it remixed like this. I don't know if you watch Intervention, but it's one of the best shows on TV. It really doesn't get any realer.

The last episode I saw was about a girl named Allison. She's far from your average geek monster. I mean, this chick is the biggest fiend that I've seen thus far. Hell, I didn't even know that people actually got high off inhalants after the 2nd grade. That's up there with sniffing glue and breathing in unleaded gas fumes. I just don't get it. These people never heard of the chronic? Way safer, that's all I'm saying.

But anyway, here's the clip.




Kids, don't do drugs. Those things Allison sucks are meant to blow the dirt off your computer keyboard. Legal or not, you probably don't want your lungs to freeze and shatter inside your chest.

Where are the Reagans when you need them?

THE REPUBLICKINS' SECRET TO LONG LIFE

Look, it's my job to pay attention, ok? While you were sleeping, I've been noticing that these GOP dinosaurs never seem to die like natural human beings. Like, I think George H.W. Bush is 665 years old, on the low. It might be a rule that once you become down with them, you become one of the undead and have to drink the blood of innocent Shi-Tzus, stolen from gay liberal couples, to achieve everlasting life and help Satan to endlessly steal presidential elections. Truth be told, I used to think Republickins were secretly the descendants of dragon-lizards that once dwelled in moist caves, ate runaway squirrels and wiped their arses on nearby stalagmites. But no, my brothers and sisters...

Courtesy of Ernest Borgnine, a recent tv guest of Fox & Friends, This is why Republickins live for thousands of years:





For the record, I totally believe him. He looks like he hasn't seen female loins since Prohibition. The question is, using the borrowed logic that sexual pleasure is good for the mind, body and soul, shouldn't a person live even longer if they actually had a partner - preferably of the opposite sex - with whom they could have intercourse? Or is it really the process of rubbing one out that makes the difference?

I think it's much simpler. Republickins are wankers who never make contact with other humans, so they avoid the germs. What a bunch of weird losers.

AIDS: BACK FROM THE DEAD

Nobody wants to talk about this, but Americans and especially minorities are still getting burnt and worse from unprotected sex. And Hip-Hop needs to step up its involvement in community health awareness before rappers have to start doing shows in quarantined city neighborhoods and free health clinics. Your favorite killer disease, AIDS, has come back from the dead to destroy your mind, body and soul.

Advocacy groups say new government estimates will show at least 35 percent more Americans are infected with the AIDS virus each year than the government has been reporting.

Government officials acknowledge they are revising the estimate, which they say is not yet complete.

But advocates are pushing for the government to release the number now. They say that the delay may be partly political, and that it's hurting prevention funding.

SOURCE: ASSOCIATED PRESS/CNN

Sorry to take away from your laughter or light-heartedness while visiting, but I just wanted to send a friendly reminder that STDs are still out chea and still very deadly and contagious. Every time I ride through Birmingham, I see a big-ass downtown billboard (that should be promoting cheeseburgers or real estate or some new movie) saying that syphillis is running rampant through the area. Which means that you literally can't fuck around out there in B'Ham, or anywhere else if you want to be safe.



[I bet Photobucket deletes this image. If so, I'll put another one up by the end of the day. Damn, I hate being censored...]


See, the logic in my mind always told me that condoms are too damn thin to be taken seriously, and they do pop every now and then. This means that even if you tried to protect yourself, there's always a chance that you might end up catching herpes, syphilis, gonorrhea, HPV, Hepatitis or even HIV from a one-nighter with some fool you don't know very well. Now, I'm not saying to avoid using condoms; any protection is better than none, but not even a condom can keep you from catching crabs. Those little critters don't need to get past a condom to give you the blues. I consider myself very lucky to have never experienced the crustacean movement.

Seriously, I know it's still summer, and people are still having sensual seductions. And it won't be for another month or so that people will start settling down with a significant boo in time for autumn, which is the most romantic season of the year. But you might want to go ahead and start slowing down now, just to be ahead of the curve.

Don't say I didn't try to told you. And don't act like you're blind to the pandemic. It'll only keep getting worse.

NICOTINE ADDICTION: HARD TO KILL

I'm in my second night of smokeless life.


It's crazy how easy it is to stop inhaling tobacco smoke if you distract yourself with work, exercise and other alternative activities. I'm one of those people who thinks that smoking cigarettes is an oral fixation more than a physical addiction; eff what science says.

I've stopped smoking cigarettes before, for almost two years actually. The only thing that made me start back was a bad incident hundreds of miles away. I was powerless at the time to do anything to stop it, so the only option I felt I had was to smoke some Newports.

Free advice: Don't smoke Newports, especially when you've quit smoking for more than a year. I literally felt a cloud of death overtaking my chest from the inside after the very first pull. It is a feeling I never want to have again, because it was like Satan himself had entered my arteries and lungs, laughing and shouting, "Yes! I've got your little mulatto ass now!" The cigarette did nothing but start my nicotine dependency all over like a bad relationship with a revolving door.





Smoking is a nasty, disgusting, dirty and stinky habit. But when I'm smoking a cigarette, I don't have a problem with that. Especially when I'm drinking and in front of my laptop. But after recently realizing that my strength, endurance and breathing had been badly affected by the constant cheap smoke, I decided to give life another try.

So I'm going on the lam again. Running away from the Parliament Menthol Lights. I'm not missing the nicotine as much as I miss the activity. I guess I'll practice the saxophone, write another blog, fold some clothes, download some music, organize some important files, return some emails... damn. I guess there's a lot to be done. And maybe in a couple of days I might even be able to take my ass to the gym and finally get rid of the lingering baby fat I've carried for 30 years.


If anybody has any other suggestions for a successful end to my seven-year tobacco habit, I'm all ears. Until then, I'm just going to find some shit to do and wait until the itch is gone. Wish me luck.

THE OBAMA CRUSADE: Day 13

This guy is a machine, but even machines break down if not maintained properly.


Senator Obama was told today by a British conservative leader that he is looking pale (wow). Those of us with the light-skinded curse know that pale is not a good look when you're biracial. I'm just saying, I start looking yellow on the rare occassions I come down with a cold. But seriously, you can't afford to look sickly when you're a skinny mulatto with African descent running for POTUS.

Anyway, Obama has been in 5th gear all week, and it appears that his schedule is finally catching up to him physically. British Conservative Party Leader David Cameron took the liberty of telling the Illinois senator and presumptive Democratic nominee that he needed some sun.

Cameron told the candidate, "You should be on the beach…you need a break. Well you need to be able to keep your head together."

Obama told Cameron he would try to take a week of in August. And he said he got advice from a Clinton White House veteran on how to handle the demands on his time.

SOURCE: CNN POLITICAL TICKER

You can't even front on the work ethic. And he doesn't earn any stripes from me for doing this; I expect the POTUS to bust his arse keeping me safe and rich and comfortable. Otherwise, why the eff am I paying taxes? That's why we need a young man in office. McCain would literally get caught sleeping through his whole term. You can imagine him on a hammock, enjoying the cool Autumn breeze, then suddenly tilting over too far and falling to the ground on some end-of-Godfather shit.

At least Obama can withstand the demands of the job.


"I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death."
Nas - NY State of Mind

BREAKFAST IS DEAD

I present to you, "Futuristic Brunch."




If you look at the producer credits, you'll see a familiar name. Don't say I don't break bread.

THE BUCKET LIST

The Bucket List is a list of things that need to hurry up and die, because they're killing the human race in one way or another.

For this installment, we explore ENERGY DRINKS and the geek monsters that drink them. If you haven't noticed, energy drinks are usually guilty of some of the worst and most blatantly ridiculous product names and marketing schemes in business. If you don't know what I'm talking about, take a look at the list:

--------------------------------


SUM POOSIE



(What every man wants)
--------------------------------


GURU



(Is Gang Starr getting check$ from this?)
--------------------------------


GO GIRL



(Sugar-Free?!)
--------------------------------


PIMP JUICE



(Did Nelly skeet in this? Nolo.)
---------------------------------


COCAINE



(The Devil is Alive... How sad is this??)
---------------------------------

Do what you will with your own fucking health. I'm not a doctor, and I'm not trying to tell you muh-fuckas what to do with your body. But just don't be a victim of your own need for extra energy and such. Because that would make you a geek monster. And I love you too much to let you go out like a sucka.

If I gotta dead you, know it's only 'cause I love you...
Talib Kweli - "Know That"

THE WEEK IN DOOM

I’m supposed to be writing a free biography for a very talented R&B artist, but first things first – meaning me. Just to remind you, I have certain emotions when it comes to DOING FREE SHIT.

But here’s where we are. This week, some important shit has happened. In case you’ve been missing it, here’s The List of The Doomed for the week of Juneteenth:


Iowa

That shit is extra-fonky-fucked up right now. If you haven’t noticed, “Natural Disaster” is the new normal. I don’t have to remind you about all the other weather problems we’re having as a planet. But the floods are still spreading; there’s a shitload (LITERALLY) of water all over the place, and since the Mississippi River is a river and not a pond, it could be a minute before they get that shit together. Note: you don’t have to read or listen to the news to know that shit is never correct when they publicly announce that it's fixed…

I would say that we should give to the Red Cross, but what the fuck did that do for Katrina victims? I say that we pray. Or actually drive across six miles of water with a hammer and some duct tape and help rebuild. Your choice.


G-Unit

I think it’s time for everyone to give up the façade of Curtis Jackson, at least here in America. How many albums can you expect an album to sell off of controversy and no quality? I know it worked for years, but everybody wakes up eventually - even us "niggas." I can’t remember the last G-Unit freestyle I gave a fuck about, and I check NY mixtapes all the time. Way more than most NY cats check underground southern music... Joell Ortiz deserved some of that G-Unit money if you ask axe me, Dr. Dre. But its your Interscope’s money. If everybody over there is happy, I’m thrilled.

But I’ll predict right now that G-Unit’s Terminate On Sight will be the official end of the ride for you 50 prick riders. It won’t come near a million, unless he drops a dope single before July. And when I say dope, I mean impossibly dope.

Because I simply can't condone Curtis taping a conversation with the idea that he could use it to discredit Young Buck if he ever tried to defect, which he is. I'm not posting Buck's diss song, because it's just not that good. But Curtis killed himself with this one. Sure, Buck cried and contradicted everything he's saying right now, but who knows how effed up his situation was when he tried to keep it 100 with Curtis? Now, he sees how shiesty this dude is, and how he's willing to go extra hard (NOLO) just to look like he's on top (NOLO).

CLICK HERE FOR THE AUDIO.



Hillary Clinton

Do I feel sorry for Mrs. Clinton? Not really. I mean, I look at things very carefully when it comes to news and politics. That’s because most of it is bullshit, but if you can sift through the doo-doo, you might be able to keep up with important developments as they relate to you and the rest of the world.

Hillary is stuck in the position of having to keep her word and work to elect Barack Obama for POTUS. We all know that this was not the original plan. And it’s not that hard to tell that she’d rather be scratching a yak’s balls (NOLO) than to be actively promoting the man that came from nowhere to take the nomination.

But since OBAMA IS OPENING A LEAD on Senator John McCain in Florida, Ohio and Pennsylvania, it doesn’t look like he’ll need her as a V.P. Especially after he HIRED THE WOMAN HILLARY BLAMED for her campaign failure to help find a V.P. for him. Sorry Senator, it’s time to do what you promised to do regardless. The question is, “Are you still down for me now?”


THE S.U.V.

If you’re driving a Mercedes-Benz G 55, regardless of your income and need for attention and fame status, you're an idiot.

I heard some bullshit today on NPR about how it’s not smart to trade in your Hummer for a Prius. And there were all these scientific reasons and guest dickheads trying to explain the reasoning behind the theory. Hey, if you want to believe that a car that gets 50 miles per gallon is worse for your pockets than a truck that gets 15… well, do you. Don’t say I ain’t tried to told ya.


Haters/Racists/Dewshbags

As I expected, the wave of hate is subsiding as it relates to Lil’ Wayne’s Tha Carter III. Dude officially sold A Milli. Against all odds. The title stays in The South. Three weeks later, can we agree that a win is a win?

Hip-Hop is back. And it's back with undeniable sales numbers. Whether you don't dig Lil' Wayne or you do, you should be able to see that this will keep the media fascinated with our culture for years to come. Even if you're in it ultimately for the artform, you know we should be paid for this entertainment we're providing. Why not capitalize?

And again, Obama's winning without the Clinton machine.

You gotta love it. I mean, it’s only right.

FRIDAY THE 13th: NBC's TIM RUSSERT (R.I.P.) vs. R. KELLY

There was a subtle divide between intellectuals and philistines today on Atlanta radio. I was running errands in Atlanta this afternoon, and around 4pm, when I’m usually listening to “All Things Considered” on NPR, I suddenly had an urge to tune in to V-103.

Ryan Cameron, my old boss and mid-day radio personality for V-103, was talking to Johnny Gill. We won’t get into that right now, but I’ll post the audio if I can find it, because Ryan slipped in [NOLO] a few subliminal jokes while interviewing Eddie Murphy’s new best friend (sorry, Arsenio). Hilarious, I must say.





As he wrapped up the Johnny Gill interview, Ryan announced that the R. Kelly verdict was expected to be announced at any moment, so everyone should stay tuned. So I flipped back to NPR, because I know that “any moment” in radio means at least ten minutes. Back on the brain-worthy side, the voices of NPR were talking about THE DEATH OF TIM RUSSERT. I was like, “Whoa! Ol’ dude from ‘Meet the Press?’ Nah…” But yeah. Russert, only fifty-eight years old, died on Friday the 13th of an apparent heart attack. Life is stranger than fiction, and the profession of journalism is harder than life, maybe harder than Lexington Steele [NOLO]. No Terrance Dean.

But seriously, I always thought Tim Russert was the next Lil' Wayne of journalism. His steelo was always to confront people in subtle ways, so that the viewer or reader could decipher some truth out of all of the lies that politicians tell on a regular basis. He was obviously a Democrat, but he played it pretty fair throughout his career, as far as trying to seem bipartisan. Check this out:


Russert, 54, is a lawyer who started out as a Democratic political operative, signing on with Sen. Daniel Patrick Moynihan and gradually developing a reputation for devastating effectiveness at shaping coverage. He once leaked word to two reporters that the senator's Republican opponent had distorted his own military record, knocking the candidate out of the race and prompting the New Yorker magazine to observe that the man had been "russerted." In 1984, Russert made the jump to network news as a mid-level executive.
SOURCE: Washington Post


I’m sure that, if I looked hard enough, I’d find some shit he’s said or insinuated that I wouldn’t like. But who cares now. I’m sure Russert never saw his early death coming, especially in one of the most exciting political seasons ever. He was getting plenty of work all around television as one of the hardest interviewers in the game. And now, he’s dead, like many potential game-changers before him who were called back to the essence before the human race was ready to let him go. “Wow,” I thought, as I listened and realized that one of the major players in journalism was gone, just like that.

So I flip back to V-103, right before the announcement of the biggest story in negro news. Sure enough, as I predicted, The Pied Piper got off, exonerated of all charges. Pedophiles, urinators and statutory rapists – rejoice!! You just got another reason to continue to do you.





So the question is, who owned the day? Will this day be remembered as the day that Tim Russert, renowned journalist, passed away untimely? Or will it forever be known as “Kelly Day?” Which outcome is the weirdest?

You be the judge. I’ll be the executioner.

SEOUL FOOD: WHO WANTS BEEF?

Certainly not the South Koreans.

We already know that they are shook, because your homie Kim Jong Il has those nukes on lock for the lowski, and could literally help them to blow up internationally. Since he's running the North, you could assume that his higher global positioning would give him the upper hand. It's kinda like the movie Revenge of the Sith, where the person with the higher ground cuts the other down to size. Plus, I don't think that South Korea has the muscle to go at Kim Jong like that.

If only they could be like Americans; we're so thuggy that we do it the old western way. We shoot the guy from 2 stories below, and he always does the "I just got shot" dance before falling from the rooftop onto a wagon. In our dreams, we're invincible. But I don't mean movies when I say that North Korea is the Wild, Wild East, and Will Smith is not about to risk his ass to fight a lunatic dictator with atomic bombs. Not in real life. Dude is even wilding out on the U.S., old-school style, like, "If you're feeling froggy, leap!"



"Kermit - better think before you 'ribbit'/ Don't be murdered over your song before you ad-lib it." - Fabolous


But back to the point, South Korea has a much more immediate beef to settle. The cabinet of South Korean president Lee Myung-bak OFFERED TO RESIGN today over beef. Not the kind you find in rap; the kind you find at a restaurant. Apparently, somewhere between 60 and 400k people marched in Seoul, in protest of the government deciding to resume importing American beef, which the whole country is convinced will bring Mad Cow Disease into the country.

WTF?! Am I missing something? Should we, as steak and shrimp-consuming Americans, be interested in this at all? Is our meat really tainted like that? I was actually becoming more concerned about Avian Bird Flu, which is found in chicken, until this new publicity fuckfest. The cattle industry can't blame Oprah for this one. Bad news spreads on its own, like salmonella.

Which reminds me, DON'T EAT TOMATOES, EITHER. Matter of fact, don't eat anything. Food is dead, and THERE'S NOT ENOUGH TO GO AROUND anyway.





If you're smart, you'll get like me and drink white tea, praying for the drought to end soon so these American farmers can go back to planting that good shit. And pray for the sanity of our cows. I'd be mad too if humans killed all my folks, cut them up into prime ribs and rump roasts and shipped them off to Asia, only to see that people never wanted beef in the first place. Bovines of the world, you'd better step your political power up.




Viva la Vida!!!