Thursday, July 27, 2006
A young man was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from college. While he was walking through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed so the man approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot. There was a large thorn deeply embedded in the bottom of the foot.
As carefully and as gently as he could he worked the thorn out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man and with a rather stern look on its face, stared at him. For a good ten minutes the man stood frozen -- thinking of nothing else but being trampled.
Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned and walked away.
The man never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.
Twenty years later the man was walking through the zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to where they were standing at the rail. The large bull elephant stared at him and lifted it's front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times, all the while staring at the man. The man couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant.
After a while it trumpeted loudly; then it continued to stare at him.
The man summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder.
Suddenly the elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of the man's legs and swung him wildly back and forth along the railing, killing him.
Probably wasn't the same elephant.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
You know I snatched me up one of them pails of puffs for the party!
It might as well be endorsed by Craig "ugly as sin/flava in ya ear" Mack.
It's like the 12 days of christmas this week, except it's only five days and it doesn't end with a presents stuffed under a tree, rather it concludes with a nacho cheese fountain and ghost ridin' the go kart.
Monday, July 24, 2006
While things are different than they used to be, they are not necessarily any better. Racism is out and about, but creepin on the DL and I am about to expose it in a true voice of the people style.
Example #1, street signs.
Damn, there are few things as blatantly racists as street signs. What's that you say? You want proof? Well look no futher.
Looking for a book to read?
Why is it that they put whitey on the sign with someone reading a book and darky on the sign for crime watch?
That's just plain wrong!
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
The website described the course as most flat. I have come to learn that flat is a relative term and that Pamela Anderson is mostly flat relative to Dolly Parton.
Anyhow, here's a brief rundown...
Here is my hella-fly bike...
Peep my pimp art zip tied on that mug, along with the pink horn and vanillaroma air fresheners on the handlebars. In all, It cost like $80 (bike included) at target. At that price, I had doubts it would see the finish line, but the ole thundercat did just fine.
My team name was Chuck Norris.
I biked the first leg (My teammate, D. Magical ran). This leg was like 1.5 miles, and seemed to be mostly up hill, minus crossing a river (no not on a bridge, I actually carried the bike through the river...well maybe it was a creek). At the end I dropped my bike only to be greeted by a 4 ft wall to be jumped.
I ran the next leg (D. Magical biked). It was long, hot and muddy and we had to climb a cargo net at the end.
Leg3 had a real bitch's bitch of a hill and this crazy inflatable thing you had to scale like 20 ft on one side and slide down the other.
Leg4 was forgetable probably due to the terror inducing balance beam waiting at the end. I managed to cross it successfully without falling and hitting me twig and berries.
Leg5 was like the Shamrock vs Ortiz fight from a few weeks ago, over before it ever got started.
The final obstacle was this big nasty mud pit you had to belly crawl through. It looked like poo, smelled like poo, and according to Occam's Razor, in all likelihood was poo.
D. Magical and I emerged from the other side as chocolate dipped gangstas.
We joined some other friends from team Dirty Dolphin and crushed some red hook and celebrate finishing.
There were a few other interesting team names in the mix...
Powered by PBR
Ha! We stole your bike!
Don't Call Me Mary
Crippled and Crazy
Flaps of Ham
Here for the Beer
1 bald 1 fat
In Your Eye
Time to start thinking of the next great adventure.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
So I just had to go watch the video, naturally.
Anyhow, it is a refreshing change from most of the crap titled as hip-hop.
Let me break it down for you...
In true hip-hop style, that video is budget. It was probably shot for $3.50 and a pack of orange tic tacs, just like the good ole days before the industry got behind the genre and got its commercialized hooks all up in it.
Music production is the focus. The song has some of the most 1992 beats I've heard since well 1992. Lupe has a nice flow and actually weaves a nice little narritive together rather than spitting about the rims on his car. I would say he reminds me of Slick Rick, but I recently read that he is inspired by none other than Johnny Cash and his story telling style of music.
Finally, either as non-conformist or a deviant saying FU he takes something generally outside his culture and makes it his. I'm not saying there aren't any brothers who skateboard, I'm just saying they are about as common as white rappers used to be.
Regardless, there just maybe some hope for hip hop afterall.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
For those who don't know what drifting is, it is essentially driving like an A-hole around corners so that the a$$end of the car swings out and you glide through the corner all fast & furious style.
Anyhow, I signed up for US Drift 101, a course that teaches you the art and science of drifting.
What I didn't know, upon signing up, is that you are required to use your own car. Still I thought me and the 'ru would manage just fine.
Upon arrival, I saw that there were 26 other folks signed up for the course and no less than 20 of them were driving the same type of car, a Nissan 240 and one of the more fast and furious styled cars even had a fancy lil sticker across the windshield that read DRIFTING FOR JESUS. I am sure the son of God appreciates the effort.
Anyhow of the remaining 6 cars, mine was the only non-rear wheel drive car. Brilliant. Furthermore, as I pulled in to the lot, I noticed 90% of the cars were beaters and beyond that, the yahoo's were jacking up the rears to put sets of super schitty tires on. Me and the 'Ru got more that our fair share of comments which ranged from "Dude are you gonna drift the wagon? Ohhhhh Snap! That's just crazy!" to "This car is too nice for drifting, take it easy so you can drive home at the end of the day."
I heard the second comment from no less than 3 different instructors. I thought they were being nice until I saw some kid take his S2000 off the track only to loose 1/2 of the front bumper and part of the radiator to the lip (curb) of the track. Even worse, the oil pan plug got ripped out, and he drove the car off the track spewing oil, coolant and his pride. I am not sure how that conversation will go with the insurance company, but I am sure it will be interesting.
Anyhow, here are my key learnings:
Drifting takes skill and a capable and preferably non-daily driven car, of which I have neither.
However, when it comes to my go-kart, that's a whole nother story. I'll get that monster more sideways than a movie about wine and relationships.
Friday, July 07, 2006
Target's mascot, Bullseye, acknowledges Charlize Theron's beauty and acting talent in a way that online a canine can, the red rocket salute.
I could have made a joke about Bullseye offering to help reapply her lipstick, but that would just be in poor taste.
Melady found a rave review on da knot about a club dj who plays weddings on the side, and we arranged to go meet with her (yes a female dj, a tatted up one too).
We got to her place a little early, but she invited us in, nonetheless, claiming she would return to her project afterwards. Her project, as it turns out, was compiling a playlist for a Mash-up party she is playing at the Black Cat.
Curiosity got the best of me, so I asked "Are you making a playist of mash-ups or making the actual mash-ups?" It was the latter as she flipped open her laptop and played her project, a lil ditty blending Prince and Tom Jones.
I was sold, both on the DJ and the software.
I used 7,000 sony points that I have earned from 3 years of gym payments and my prepaid phone to redeem my very own copy of Sony Acid Studio, which I received just last night. No less that 2 hours out of the box, I had made my very first schitty mash-up, blending Soul2Soul's "Keep on Movin" with Suzanne Vega's "Tom's Diner."
I'd post it, but I don't know how and I don't have a myspace page, cause that's how I roll.
It's not so much a mash-up, save for 1 or 2 brief parts, as much as it is beatmatching and cutting back & forth between the two songs. Still the software is pretty damn hott and if I do say so myself a valiant first effort.
Ironically after my first experimentation with Sony Acid, I found myself having the strangest dream ever, something about the transmission of intelligence through energy...sort of like a wireless internet connection into your cabeza.
I think their may have been pudding involved too, which as it just so happens, is not only delicious, but holds the same consistency of grey matter according to one of my former psych professors, who liked to lecture about acid of all things.
Circle of life and all that jazz I suppose.
Anyone know where I can borrow a karaoke machine?
Monday, July 03, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
I'm not talkin about wearing a helmet slow, but people who impede my bidness in some way by taking there sweet ass time, like this is their world and I am just living in it.
So anytime I can get a little passive aggressive poke at these donkey punchers, I feel bad about the fact that I feel so good about my actions (ie cutting in front of a sunday driver in a parking lot and then getting an exponentially better parking space).
I had something like that happen about 30 minutes ago.
There are a couple of high profile weekends on deck, so melady and I decided it was time to upgrade ye olde camera. Some quick online research and comparison shopping and we found our choice (Sony DCS-W70) and best price (circuit city).
So we headed off to the store.
Why oh why is it when you are only looking around, the salesfolk are all up on your dillznik like white on rice, but when you have a legit question, it's a mutha-funkin' ghost town?
Anyhow, it really didn't matter cause we knew exactly what we wanted. The only problem was this entire family unit was blocking the display case like they owned the place, debating whether or not to buy the same damn camera we were there to get.
I guess the only thing they didn't bother discussing was the fact that there was only one camera left in the case and figured they could debate the matter until the cows come home.
Quickly we grabbed another worthless sales jabroni and got him to get the last one out of the case on the DL while the Waltons were looking the other way.
So after an excessive amount of jaw-jackin, they decided they wanted to buy, only we ended up with the last one in stock in hand, and took some twisted pleasure in watching the family's collective confused look as they tried and tried and find it. Even their sharp as a bowling ball sales associate kept looking and looking since the inventory showed just one more in stock.
That's just how we roll. Either Get in & get out or get the F out the wayyyyyy!
So as soon as I sort out how this new fan-dangled contraption works, be on the look out for some hot new audio-video production-izzies!*
Barring any instant karmic retributions.