WAYNE WINS - HATE IS DEAD

It is being speculated by HITS! MAGAZINE, which is always on point with the numbers, that Tha Carter III, Lil' Wayne's third tenth album, is going to sell somewhere in the range of 900k in its first week. That's units. In today's dying music market, two rap artists have still sold in the almost-million range - Kanye and Weezy F. Baby. Again - they're both Hip-Hop artists. That's major. And it's further proof that Hip-Hop is obviously not dead. Mariah and Usher both came in under 500k. Before Wayne, they both had the highest debuts of the year. Don't call it a comeback.





I seriously don't understand that people didn't see this coming. In the south, Lil' Wayne has been a star for such a long time that this is not at all surprising. The Hot Boys were major; if you're under forty and you've ever lived in the south, you know that Cash Money got major love in all the local Hip-Hop club spots. And not just for a few years. All through the nineties.





Juve and B.G. were always going to be restricted in the same way that Trick Daddy is now a local Florida rapper. It's sad, but it's true. T.I., Jeezy, Rick Ross and Plies are running the game on the Gulf Coast, but Wayne is beyond the game. Not because he did anything for the south, but because the south did everything for him and he delivered.





Wayne broke out and became prolyfic after Cash Money almost folded, and he discovered that it didn't matter how many dudes from outside of the south didn't like him. He could sell on his own terms if he kept it moving and slowly kept stepping up, like a mountain climber on codeine. But he knew he would need enough non-southern appeal to break above the Mason-Dixon line, and that's why you gotta love the blind ambition.





I'm not asking for people to see it as a timeless piece of art; I'm conservative enough to put it in the "dope" category. Besides, Tha Carter III will still become known as the first classic since Graduation, regardless of detractors. That's way more than will ever be said of 75% of rap albums today. Tell the truth - that internet leak should have caused way more damage. Most of these internet rappers will never generate that type of hype anyway.





I'm actually proud of Weezy. It is a good ass album. And I don't even have to call [Nolo] after that. If there's any lesson here, it's that New York really did fall off for a minute, because there's nobody up there that has been building the same momentum since 50. That's the current blueprint for a successful New York rapper. He blew up and shitted on the lyrical side of Hip-Hop, as he simultaneously glorified the "gangster with a bodyguard" lifestyle. The south never believed it, but he made all his music for us anyway, so we let it go. Now the south still rises, and there's no northern answer. Not hating, just stating.





Check my review at THE UNDERWORLD. That's all for now. Now go away.

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!!!

BACK 2 LIFE... BACK 2 REALITY

Dear beloved readers: run yourself a hot bath and drop a bottle of black ink in your already dirty-ass tub water and get ready to scrub away the rigor mortis of bad writers and bitch-made editors. I’m coming back around.

Let’s just say that some weird cat had the nerve to post an anonymous comment on the blog of His Supreme Awesomeness, and it kind of made sparks. If you’d like to read it, just CLICK HERE and start at the actual blog post. Then look down at what this urethra sponge had to say about what was obviously intended as a joke. Gotta love those internet militants!





I mean, dude got sensitive. I read the comment and was taken aback by the sheer emotion. But come on, hoe, where’s the bravado? You mean to tell me I’m being stalked by an internet geek who can’t even make up a pseudo identity? “Anonymous” is just another word for non-famous, and since I have the microphone on this here stage, no no-name heckler will ever merit a response from me other than fuck you, whole fistedly.

Nolo.

On a positive note, thanks to the few of you who have kept coming back through my two-month hiatus. No apologies; no excuses. I just had to make sure I stayed up while shit was going down, if you will follow my lead.

So here’s some hope for the hopeless, anonymous haters out there. A slap on the ass for all the babies who can’t live and breathe without my help. Things are turning a corner of sorts for your humble and faithful narrator, and I’m just now feeling like I might know what to do with this blog.

Thanks again. Good night. See you tomorrow?

CLAMWEISER: THE WORST BEER ON EARTH

So I hit the road for Birmingham on Sunday night, to stay at a decent hotel and enjoy a few days away from the hellhole I know as Asslanta. Time for another mini-vacation, oh my brothers and sisters. See, when I take these quick little road trips, all I ask when I’m visiting a different city is cold beer, comfortable living quarters, decent weather, good times and a change of atmosphere that I can appreciate. Maybe a pool table. Monday would be slow and settling, and I’d have a chance to relax a bit while doing some “Spring cleaning.” But, of course, I wanted to get the beer first.


Here’s where, as usual, it all started to go wrong:


First of all, if you’re going to cop some brews before noon while on a mini-vacation, don’t ever – ever – ever, buy, drink, taste or even look at those Budweiser + Clamato beers they sell at the gas stations.

It still may be too early to make such a broad and timeless statement, but this has got to be the worst beer that anyone ever made. If you want a colorful review, I’d say that Bud/Clamato tastes like the original brewer/inventor took one sip of his own creation, killed himself and had his assistant pour his blood into the entire vat, before packaging it in 16 oz. cans and sending them across America.





I didn’t know no better at the time; I just saw an opportunity for adventure, and I like trying new beer, so I’m usually down to take a taste test experiment, as long as it’s not malt liquor. Plus, I do Corona every now and then, so I figured I was safe. So I copped the four-pack from a Racetrak for $5.24, and swooped back around the corner to my sound-proof suite at Hotel Underwriter. The plan was to sit on those 64 oz’s and use the whole day to pimp my priorities.

What I discovered after taking my first sip is that I’d rather drink a goat’s bathwater than to ever drink a Budweiser Clamato again. I thought it was just Bud’s first attempt at a Chelada. If you aren’t familiar with Chelada-styled beers, they’re pre-mixed with salt and lime. They’re usually pretty good, like a Corona after you doctor it up. So, since I’ve already rocked with Miller Chill, I figured that since Bud’s versions looked way mo’ gangsta in the 16 oz aluminum can, it would probably be more authentic. If not, at least it would be only a half step down from a Corona, like Miller, so there was nothing to lose.





My immediate reaction: this is disgusting, nasty, pre-historic dookie water. After the first gulp, I almost ralphed into my rented kitched sink. I picked up the can, eyes wide open, and looked at the nutritional info on the side of the can for any abnormalities. Oh, the horror: “Contains: Shellfish / Clams.”

*Further quoted reaction has been censored by editors*

Let’s just say I was pissed. $5 US gone, just because Anheuser-Busch wanted to compete with Miller for the Mexican beer market. Speaking of which, why the eff would Mexicans drink clam-flavored tomato juice beer? Who knows. If only I had CLICKED HERE before wasting my money. Oh well; may the brewmaster’s soul eternally sizzle in the poisonous Budweiser dewshpot without ever being sipped again. This shit juice excuse for a Chelada-style beer can simply be described with two words. Liquid ass. Nolo.




100% CO-SIGN.


Stay tuned for “The Birmingham Fiasco.”

DEAD-I-CATION

If you noticed, I've been conspicuously absent from the blog game in the last month. Why? Well, it's a mixture of salty feelings, bad time management and lack of inspiration. Of course, there's been plenty of bucket-kicking going down in the entertainment industry, as always, which I noticed and allowed to pass. Others have taken up the slack, which I greatly appreciate.

But now, I hesitate to say that I'm all the way back on my game, but I'm definitely getting back in the groove of thangs. It's funny; every book I've read recently that deals with career goals and such (The 4-Hour Work Week) has flagrantly suggested that I stop spending so much time online and focus on a book, if that is indeed the goal for which I'm aiming to meet. It gets difficult to stay away from distraction, but it also intensifies my focus, I can't deny.

The only blog I haven't checked recently is DALLAS PENN. That's because Billy Sunday pretty much always stays consistent, even when I don't check in. Good writers aren't usually that persistent. Hats off to the homie.

Other blogs I eff with would include anything on my blogroll and a few others, like DAILY KOS, DEFAMER and a few others. I don't really dig most mainstream blogs other than Bossip, because they all tend to share info and re-report things that others discovered, as if they found the info themselves. I do the same, but damn! If that's all it takes, then why the eph am I not rich yet?

MEDIA TAKE OUTwould be a great one, if they didn't put up pure bullshit and wait for someone to discredit their reporting, which is all innuendo anyway. I guess their mentality is that it doesn't matter, as long as they have millions of readers. Quick to misprint public and private business, then retract back for deaf ears, and think it's dismissed? Pa-fucking-thetic. Word to OutKast. But at least they're consistent, which you haven't recently seen from the homie THE UNDERWRITER.

That's why I'm in the middle of a ATL divorce. I've left my 12-year wifey several times, and yet I always find my way back into the city's shitty panties, just because I was too lazy and too entrenched to move away. I tried going back to Alabama and to Tennessee, with no long-term luck. Every time I felt that was that, she called me right back, and I answered. Owatayfooliyam.

But now, I'm really, really, reaally sick of my surroundings; totally, dude. It's so bad that these days I get invited to free shit all the time, with free drinks, food and celebrity dewshes of all sorts. But these socialites and celebritits are no more deserving of their influence and small pond fame than the nameless hooker that served Governor Spitzer with a $4K dirty sanchez buffet.

I'm deadicated to being a writer, but I'm so sick of being nice to assorted prick ticklers who don't pay like they weigh. That doesn't include you, my dear reader, so I apologize for getting my contacts twisted. But really, haven't you ever felt like you've helped hundreds of people, and nobody turned around and said, "Preshate it," or at least, "Let me return the favor?" (nolo). Well, that's my mojo right now. Ain't no love in the heart of the reaper, because my crops are looking dry as fuck right now, all because I haven't been all the asshole I can truly be (nolo). But I am still, underneath all this UNDERWRITER drapery that I wear on the net, a cool cat that likes to associate with other ill creatives. Plus, I'm THE BEST WRITER ALIVE.

So, for the record, until I get my shit right, I'm only putting up one blog a week. That's supposed to be the format anyway, but sometimes I get crunk off those funny cigarettes and go for minez, on some prolific fuckery type of shit, like I have miles to go before I sleep. Right now, it's a recession, and not just in terms of the economy. As the main writer of this blog, I'm supposed to keep the good times rolling, but I'd rather be honest and tell you, oh my brothers and sisters, that sometimes, even THE UNDERWRITER gets a little pissy and wants to walk away. It's human nature. Fortunately, again, I'm still
THE BEST WRITER ALIVE, and soon enough, I just might prove it in hardback form.

Until then, keep checking in. Don't say I don't keep it 100.

C'entanni, bitches!