Damn you Tay Zonday

...back and crack

Hide your pets.

This made its way around the office today. Juicy & Delicious

Here's the tv to go along with it.

This is my house!!!

Thanks Doc

My very good friend Doc told me I had to check out VH1 Classic. Pretty freakin' sweet. This this and this made my night.

A tribute

Nope.

Before I knew "No One" was by Alicia Keyes, I kept thinking to myself, "Why is this garbage on every time I turn on the radio?"

Now that I know it's Alicia Keyes, I still think it's garbage.

How about some early Ice Cube?

I had my first, real, "Oh hell naw," moment today.

We're doing a client presentation. As usual, I'm the black guy. (No black gals in sight either) At one point in the presentation, there was to be music accompanyment. Now mind you, this was in no way an "urban" or "teen" or "hip" campaign.

So as I bend down to start the CD player, one of, let's just say, "the bosses," tells the client, "And Franklin's going to rap"

Why the fuck didn't you just say, "Ohh, in case you didn't notice guys, he's black!"

I know when I’m being mocked.

In the category of conversations I didn’t feel like having with my coworkers was the Don Imus episode. Thankfully, I’d been able to avoid it until now. See here. I know you’ve probably heard about this. It’s come up in office small talk for the past two weeks.

I like how this “news story” has come to validate so many people’s opinion that the controversy Imus found himself in was undeserved.

That’s bullshit. Imus deserved to have his bitch-ass fired… a while ago. Don't expect me to co-sign your belief it was, "Sharpton's fault."

May I direct your attention to Ms. Gwen Ifill. Moderator and managing editor of Washington Week, senior correspondent for The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, former chief congressional and political correspondent for NBC, moderator of the 2004 Vice-Presidential debate and, according to Don Imus, the cleaning lady.

Fuck him and fuck Santa.

Poker Night Recap

We had an unofficial poker night last week.

I lost 40 bucks.

Fuck poker.

Office Heavy Rotation For The Week

When I was five years old I realized there was a road
At the end I will win lots of pots of gold
Never took a break, never made a mistake
Took time to create cause theres money to make
To be a billionaire takes hard work for years
Some nights I shedded tears while I sent up prayers
Been through hard times, even worked part time
In a seafood store sweepin floors for dimes
I was sort of a porter takin the next mans order
Breakin my back, but for shackled headquarters
All my manpower for four bucks an hour
Took my time, and wrote rhymes in the shower
Shoes are scuffed cause the road gets rough
But I'ma rock it cause my pockets ain't stuffed enough
All the freaks wouldn't speak cause my checks was weak
They would turn the other cheek so I started to seek
A way to get a play, and maybe one day
Ill be performin up a storm for a decent pay
No matter how it seems I always kept the dream
All the girlies scream and suckas get creamed
Dreamed about it for five years straight
Finally I got a break and cut my first plate
The road aint yellow and there aint no witches
My name is kool g rap, Im on the road to the riches

Verse two:

I used to stand on the block sellin cooked up rock
Money bustin out my sock cause I really would clock
They were for kind of fiends bringin jackets and jeans
Magazines, anything, just to hustle for beans
The cash was comin fast, money grew like grass
People hungry for the blast that dont even last
Didnt want to be involved but the money will getcha
Gettin richer and richer, the police took my picture
But I still supplied, some people I knew died
Murders and homicides for bottles of suicide
Money, jewelry, livin like a star
And I wasnt too far from a jaguar car
In a small-time casino, the towns al pacino
For all of the girls, the pretty boy valentino
I shot up stores and I kicked down doors
Collecting scars from little neighborhood wars
Many legs I broke, many necks I choked
And if provoked I let the pistol smoke
Loyal members in a crew now down with the game
Sellin nickels and dimes in sunshine or rain
What I had was bad from my shoes to my pad
In the first time in my life loanin money to dad
Now the tables turned and my lifestyle switches
My name is kool g rap, Im on the road to the riches

Verse three:

A thug'll mug for drugs, he eventually bugs
Lookin for crack on carpets and rugs
The squealer tells but the dealer still sells
Little spoiled kids inheritin' oil wells (George Bush?)
I was the type on the opposite side
Of smokin the pipe, in a beef I got hype
Cause rags to riches switches men to witches
Become stitches, body bags in ditches
Bloodshed, I painted the town red
People fled as I put a dread's head to bed
That means dead, in other words deceased
Face got erased, bullets got released
Bombs were planted, the kids were kidnapped
In fact this was a way to get back
At enemies who tried to clock g's
On my block, now they forever knock z's
Plans of rampages went for ages
Some got knocked and locked inside cages
Some bit the dust for crumbs and crusts
In God we trust, now rots to rust
Plus caps to cops, policeman drops
You blew off his top when the pistol went pop
Troopers, soldiers, rollin' like boulders
Eyes of hate and their hearts get colder
Some young male put in jail
His lawyer so good his bail is on sale
Lookin' at the hourglass, how long can this power last?
Longer than my song but he already fell
He likes to eat hardy, party
Be like john gotti, and drive a maserati
Rough in the ghetto, but in jail he's jello
Mellow, yellow fellow, tell oh hell, hello
One court date can turn an outlaw to an inmate
But just stay, ship him upstate by the great lakes
And than a-wait and wait and wait
Til he breaks, thats all it takes
So he fakes to be a man, but he cant stand
On his own two feet because now he's in a new land
Rules are different and so is life
When you think with a shank, talk with a knife
Not my lifestyle so I made a u-turn
More money I earn, more money to burn
Pushin all buttons, pullin all switches
My name is g. rap, Im on the road to the riches


Superman that shit.

Back on my grizzly

I've been working hard and taking naps lately. Time to do some catch up.

Turbo

PB & J

One of the bosses has a habit of appearing out of nowhere chanting, "It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time, Peanut Butter Jelly Time, Peanut Butter Jelly, Peanut Butter Jelly!"

I don't think he knows it up to the baseball bat.

This is some bullshit.

While I was in school I had a facebook account. I checked it every now and then. Like most things, it got old and I deleted my account and forgot about the site all together.

With the current buzz and such, I resigned up for facebook today.

That shit is lame. I mean, lamer than Second Life lame.

I’ve got to figure out a way to migrate teens and the socially awkward to paymedummy.com.

Just so I can see, “Murdoch makes mega play for paymedummy,” on the cover of AdAge.

iSuck

An art director friend of mine told me that my font style, unlike my wu-tang, was shitty.

So I now have a new - art director approved - header.

Fly

I believe I can officially add "Slang Translator" to my resume.

Duties include inadvertently introducing, explaining and begrudgingly attempting to explain the etymology of slang (real and made-up) to coworkers.

the Notorious T.A.X.

I don't have issues, I have subscripitons

EbonyJet found the blog and gave me shout. So give 'em a visit.

This shit is unacceptable

Of course Jesus would drive a Mazda.

This commercial is getting under my skin.



And while I'm on the Auto industry, I wonder what the folks at Chevrolet are thinking about their investment in T.I. right about now.