Openings and Mammary Glands

I had a friend in college who honest to God thought that Dr. Dre (yes, two Dre posts in a row) was not saying "Bitches ain't shit but ho's and tricks," but "bitches ain't shit but holes and tits."

Funny, yes, but the lyric almost works better, because his intent was putting down women; So why not break them down to the body parts he finds useful? I mean, I don't support that logic, but if you're a mysogonistic gangsta rapper, it makes perfect sense.

Have you ever heard Ben Folds sing that song? He really sings it with conviction!


There's also a new post of mine at The LC, if you want to swing by there.

Dr. Dre's "Keep Their Heads Ringing" came "buck buck buck buck booyaka shan"'ing onto my ipod yesterday while I was riding my Nishiki* to work, and I thought about how my mind can get on tangents from just about any lyric. I'd like to share with you this Pop-Up Video (TM) from the recesses of my mind with my thoughts in italics. The lyrics were cut and pasted without permission from songlyrics.com, and other research was done at various places on the internet, again, no permission at all.

Spoken intro:
Yeah, whattup, this is Dr. Dre
The party's goin on

Thank God it's Friday

The doctor is not only suggesting that Friday is as good as any to get a party "goin' on," but the day also refers to the film Friday, for which this song appeared on the soundtrack. I recall seeing this film at the University of Illinois, where my good friend was going to school. He insisted that it was really funny, and I was torn between trusting his opinion, which I often did, and thinking that he was smoking a bit too much of devil's cabbage. Turns out it was funny, and it remains highly quotable to this day, with or without the aid of the cheeba.

["Buck buck buck buck booyaka shan!" - KRS One" rpt 4X]

The fact that it was ex Boogie Down Productions MC, KRS One lending his voice here was news to me. I wish I could tell you just what in the hell "booyaka shan" means, but I'm sure it's pretty cool, solely based on how excited Mr. One sounds about it.

Chorus:

Keep their headz ringin (ding ding dong, ring-gading ding ding dong)
repeat 2X

Onomatopoeia is when a word that when pronounced sounds like a noise something makes, like "bow wow" or "woof woof." I remember in my high school Spanish text book the dogs said "guau guau" I'll have to keep that in mind next time I fuck around and try to speak Spanish to a dog.

Hey you, sittin over there
Say what?
You better get up out of your chair
That's right
And work your body down
Yeahhh...
No time to funk around, cause we gon....
Funk, you, right on up
So get up, get a move on, and get your groove on
It's the D-R-E the spectacular
In a party I go for your neck so call me Blackula

This is in reference to the film Blacula, the 1972 Blaxploitation cult classic. Do you think Blacula was pissed that he got called Blacula, since being an immortal, blood sucking vampire should have been more significant than the color of his skin? Before he sucked a white guy's blood, I bet the nerdy white guy was like, "Hey, a Black vampire! Say something funky-fresh before you bite me!" I should have stopped at the last comment. Oh well. We forge ahead . . .

As I drain a nigga's jugular vein
and maintain to leave blood stains so don't complain
Just chill, listen to the beats I spill
Keepin it real, enables me to make another meal
Still, niggaz run up and try to kill at will
But get popped like a pimple, so call me Clearasil

That was a little free advertising for the zit cream Clearasil. However, Dr. Dre is a doctor, so he could probably get his hands on some of that serious shit you see on the infomercials late at night. Don't some of those before shots look a little beyond acne, like maybe rickets, leperse, or whatever Seal has/had?

I wipe niggaz off the face of the Earth since birth
I been a bad nigga, now let me tell you what I'm worth
More than a Stealth bomber, I cause drama

A stealth bomber costed $1.157 billion in 1998, according to aerospaceweb.org, or something like that.

The enforcer, music flows like a flying saucer
Or a 747 jet, never forget
I'm that nigga that keeps the hoes' panties wet
The mic gets smoked, once you hear the beat kick
With grooves so funky, they come with a Speed Stick

Did you know that it takes me roughly a half hour to pick out deodorant these days? I have to take off the caps to make sure it's not the white flaky kind that gets stuck in my pit hair or the one that squirts up little sections of gel, because that crap runs out too fast. Then, I have to choose between arctic blast, winter storm, sport traction, double d., and triple unleaded sonic pit-fucker. Then, I have to find which one fits these qualifications and is two for five bucks. It's not easy. If only I were worth as much as a stealth bomber like Dr. Dre, and then I could pay some schmo to worry about my pits.

So check the flavor that I'm bringin
The motherfuckin D-R-E, will keep their
motherfuckin headz ringin

Chorus

One-two for the crew, three-fo' for the dough
Five for the hoe, six-seven-eight for Death Row
Mad niggaz about to feel the full effect of intellect
So I can collect respect, plus a check
Now I fin' to, get into to, my mental will take care of this business I need
to attend to cuz my rent's due
And this rap shit's my meal ticket
So you goddamn right I'm gonna kick it, or get evicted

Wait, I thought he was worth more than a jet? Shit, I never bought the "Friday" soundtrack. If I got Dr. Dre evicted, I'll never forgive myself . . .

I bring terror like Stephen King
A black Casanova, runnin niggaz over like Christine

For those of you who don't know, that's a great, and by great I mean great if you watch it with a 12-pack, 1980's movie about a crazy car that has a mind of its own and runs over teenagers.

When I rock the spot with the flavor I got
I kick plenty of ass, so call me an astronaut
As I blast past another nigga's ass that thought he was strong
But I smoke him like grass, just like Cheech and Chong
When I flow, niggaz know, it's time to take a hike
Cause I grab the mic and flip my tongue like a dyke

By that statement, the doctor is likening the tongue action of his rapping to a "dyke's" ability to yodel in the gulley, since they all have the same equipment, thus making them more vagina savvy.

I got rhymes to keep you enchanted
Produce a smokescreen with the funky green to keep your eyes slanted
So check the flavor that I'm bringin
The motherfuckin D-R-E, will keep their motherfuckin headz ringin

Chorus

Debonair with flair, I scare wear and tear
without a care, runnin shit as if I was a mayor
But I ain't no politician, no competition
Sendin all opposition to see a mortician
I'm up front, never in the back drop
Step on stage and get faded just like a flat top
Your rhyme sounds like you bought em at Stop N Go
Dre came to wax you so, just call me Mop N Glow
Many tried to, but just can't rock with
I'm 6-1, 225, a pure chocolate

At the time, the doctor was an inch shorter than me, 35 pounds heavier, and far chocolatier.

Your chances of jackin me are slim, G
Cause I rock from summer til Santa comes down the chimney
Ho ho ho, and so, as I continue to flow
Cause yo, I'm just a fly negro
So, check the flavor that I'm bringin'
The motherfuckin D-R-E will keep their motherfuckin headz ringin.

Chorus

Okay, that will do it. That was exhausting! That's probably what you're saying if you're still reading. Sorry . . .

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*Nishiki is the brand of my second-hand, piece-of-shit bicycle, but I bet you thought it was a crotch rocket.

Summer in Chicago: Thanks for the Swass, I Mean the Memories

It's like a million degrees in Chicago today. It's the kind of weather where you're just saturated in sweat, and you can't shake it. So, I must love my seven readers to sit my swassy* ass down and blog, when all I really want to do is dump Popsicles into my shorts and rub Fla-Vor-Ices (TM)** on my nips.

Irish Kids: My summer job means a new crop of Irish kids working with us. Those kids are a lot of fun. Too much fun. Whenever I'm a train wreck the next day, all I have to say to someone is, "Freeking Irish kids." My plan this summer is to not get to know any of them. In fact, I won't even look any of them in the eye or speak to any of them directly unless I absolutely have to. Stay away from me with your demon rum, you pasty devils . . .

Dog Person?: The lady wanted to get one more drink after we had already had a couple of bottles of wine at dinner. I didn't think it was too good of an idea, but then I drove by the biggest shit hole bar you ever saw. I'm a sucker for a dump bar, and this one was right up my alley. We walk in the place, it's quiet, and there's literally no customers. We got talking to Boyd, the charming bartender with a Southern accent who looked to be around 60-years-old, and out of nowhere, Gancer's Lady says to Boyd, "You look like a dog person." To which he says, "Well, I don't have a dog. I don't like them all that much, but I guess if I'm a dog or a cat person, then I guess I'm a dog person." I nearly fell off my stool when she asked him that, and then it was even funnier when he responded that way. Guess you had to be there . . .

The Chicago Cubs Have not won a World Series since 1908. Right Now, in 2008, the Cubs Are the Best Team in Baseball: Yes, if you do the math, if we don't win it all this year, it will officially be over 100 years since we did. I went to the game last night, and we really look like a major league ball club. Today we*** got a home run to tie it in the bottom of the ninth, and then got hit by a pitch for the win. These guys are finding ways to win every day and everyone is contributing, which is what you see from teams that . . . Let's just move on before I fuck it up.

Consider That Azz Backed Up: As I crank up the old iPod in my car the other day, I was really excited to get out of work; So excited that it didn't dawn on me that Back That Azz Up by Juvenile would not be a good song to play when you're parked by a school with a bunch of kindergarten through eighth graders walking home with their book bags. God willing, they didn't hear any of these lines, or what's worse, hear that I knew the words:

You got a stupid ass yeah, make me laugh yeah
Make a nigga wanna grab that, autograph that
I'm sweatin in the drawers yeah, hard and long yeah
Wanna walk it like a dog yeah, break you off yeah




That's quite a stanza, but how about this?:

Them titties sittin nice yeah, I wanna bite yeah
I could fuck you right yeah, all night yeah
Wanna bring it to my house yeah, on the couch yeah
Knock the pussy out yeah, get them out yeah
I wanna see these hoes yeah, bend it low yeah
Let me run it in the hole yeah, and let me know yeah

I felt like an idiot thinking that some kids might have caught my white ass playing that, but I was laughing when he said that "run it in the hole" line. Shit, I'm laughing now.

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* The definition we're looking for is NOT the one credited to Sir Mix-A-Lot

** You might call them Otter Pops (TM) if you grew up in certain areas, but either way, they're nice on the nips on a day like today.

*** I know that we didn't do anything, but that's just the way that we talk about our beloved Cubbies out here, so deal with it.

Kids Say the Deuchiest Things

I'm getting into full swing of my summer job, which sometimes means partying with people way younger than myself. Actually, the party I went to last night was at the same house as the party in a previous post.

I was making some observations while positioned on a balcony where, for whatever reason, very few guests ventured. This amounted to box seats for watching deuches in their natural habitat, and they came out in all variations . . .

Hula Deuche: There was a girl spinning a glowing hula hoop around with her whole body, using a slithering motion. All right, actually, that was more cool and sexy than it was deuchie. She got a golf clap from The Gancer.

Mouse Trap Deuche: A guy came storming out onto the balcony to ask for a "small rubber band" to jerry-rig a portion of the game Mouse Trap. I'm sure he was in college, but he looked 14. In his hastiness, he hadn't noticed that he locked himself out, but the rubber band was his chief concern. I felt like calling his parents to tell them that it looks as if their son has got into some heavy drugs, he's slipped into a Milton Bradley induced dementia, and his deuche baggery has reached alarming levels.

Deuchie Host: Actually, she's a good kid. I saw a big drum and asked if it was some sort of jungle juice. She told me that it had been numerous gallons of "pink pantie droppers," but it was now reduced to a few boozy pieces of fruit. Beer was scarce at the party too, but I was happy to celebrate her birthday, in spite of that and her suck-hole friends.

Deuche of the White Rhino Variety: He was a trendy black dude with a headband and, I'll say it, pretty eyes, and he looked a little like Lenny Kravitz, another big time D. Bag. He had me pinned into a corner of the kitchen, and he was going on and on and on and on and on about how pot will be legalized in the next ten to fifteen years, because of something or other about the government - perhaps based on something he had heard in his poli-sci class earlier that week. I then heard him throwing out some prices for some of his products. $50 for a bag of very "dank" pot and $65 for white rhino, or something like that. I'm so out of it when it comes to pot. I think he became aware of that when I said that I wouldn't mind seeing "dope" (I actually used that word) legalized, but I just can't picture it. Like, you walk into a liquor store and say, "I'll take a sixer of bud and some white rhino dope." He said something like, "Why do you call it dope? That implies anyone who smokes it is a dope." I would never imply anything like that, although, this guy certainly was.

My point is that kids are so sucky these days. Just to the right of the hula hoop girl, there was a hippy drum circle, and I think I saw a sitar. A sitar! Maybe kids have always sucked, but I just wish they weren't so trendy, and would just be themselves. I talked with one real cool kid for quite some time, who was celebrating not getting fired from his fish aquarium job (his "weed money job"), but other than him and maybe one other guy, it was a backyard full schmucks.

If I ever have kids some day, I'll be sure to tell my son, "At the first sign that you are becoming a d. bag, I'm punching you in the crotch. If that doesn't work, you're off to military school. If that doesn't take the deuche out of you, then I'm taking away your sitar.

Ninja Rap and Useless Crap

1. The chorus of Humpin' Around by Bobby Brown sounds exactly like the guitar riff from Dancing Days by Led Zeppelin. I'm not sure if I would have noticed it, but there was a Zep. tribute album out at around the time with a version of Dancing Days by Stone Temple Pilots. I think Bobby should have given the the Zeps full credit, got Jimmy Page to play the guitar, and just called the thing Humpin' Days.


Speaking of Bobby Brown, and I often do, I just saw the video of On Our Own, his contribution to the Ghostbusters 2 soundtrack. It's a pretty bumping song, but why the rap in the middle with awful lyrics about the awful movie? "Grabbed their proton backs on their backs, and they split?" Another bad movie rap around that time came when Vanilla Ice lent a hand to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze soundtrack with Ninja Rap*, complete with an oh-so-stupid chorus of "Go, ninja! Go!" The shit literally "oozed" off that record. MC Hammer cut an equally moronic record called Addams Family Groove, which was anything but "proper."**


You know some rich white guy came up with the idea to make these songs, thinking the kids would think it was cool, but no kid over the age of 8 should have thought any of those songs were cool. Furthermore, none of these artists should have performed them if they had any notion of self-respect. You'd never see NWA doing a Little Mermaid Rap. "Go, Mermaid. Go, Mermaid. Go, Mermaid. Go! Go land yourself a prince without the benefit of your voice, beeyotch! Hans Christian Anderson up in this muthafucka!"

2. I was talking to an African American fifth grader who, in private, informed me that there is a staff member (not this one) who "always be pushin' up on the ladies." That's my new favorite phrase, and I plan on saying it 13 times this weekend alone.

3. When I feel miserable, everything I write about seems so pointless. Even more so than usual.

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*I left the Youtube of Ninja Rap going during a mellow track by Travis, and it was real interesting. I smell a collaboration! Mellow, mellow, RAP!

**That was for my main-liar Cherry.