Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Rickety rackety

I finally changed my AIM name. It used to be drooseph. Now, it's drewlazor. I know, drastic. But sometimes change is inevitable and necessary. It hasn't started to negatively affect my personality yet, but it probably will, so watch out. IM me and talk to me about Mexican food sometime.

So, the good dude Steve left me a MySpace comment and let me know about his site, Snafumedia. Kid's got an amazing understanding of Google. Check his experiment with Terri Schiavo from awhile back and his parody of those annoying free iPod sites. I can't even get Google to come up with shirtless Orlando Bloom pics the roster of the Milwaukee Brewers.


I'm seriously contemplating splurging on Chuck K.'s new book. I'm not too big of a reader but my interest was piqued after seeing him over at the Free Library. It'll be good for me to read a book too, it's been awhile. The last book I legitimately read from cover to cover was The Swallows of Kabul by Yasmina Khadra, which is actually just a pen name for this soldier guy. If anyone has good suggestions for reads that you think I might like, please let me know. I know this sounds incredibly juvenile, but I really don't take well to super-long works. I tend to zone out hard, which is probably why I think Fathers & Sons is the best Russian novel ever (261 pages of nihilistic fun). Going to Amazon just reminded me of my contemporary lit class last year; I completely forgot, but one of our assignments was to write an online review of a book we were reading and post it. I'd be lying if I said I read that entire book though, even though I wanted to. The procrastinatory gods took control over me. I'm such a jackass.

I'm thinking that this movie sounds pretty funny.


Waiting patiently in heaven for
Tyson to die so he can pummel
the shit out of him in a boxing
ring that is actually a cloud

That P. Diddy is making a clothing line based on legendary boxer Jack Johnson is some of that unforgivable lameness. He says that if "somebody's wearing one of track suits, I want it to say 'champion' from two blocks away." Shit dude, I can just go to Wal-Mart and cop a Champion hoodless sweatshirt and rock it like pops. Everyone will know who's champion then. Of course, what Jack Johnson-related article would be complete without an angst-ridden quote from Mos Def? "Jack Johnson had all the skills -- he was handsome, he was charismatic and he was a fantastic fighter and he still got no love, and I think it's the same with hip-hop...folks sell millions of records, influence the rest of popular culture, and still continue to be misrepresented." Next he's going to tell me that Lionel Richie is black. Relax, Mos. You need to concentrate on filming your latest flick, which I believe is a John Lee Hooker biopic or something.

I kinda wish I could talk to animals. I've been watching my friend Gerard's puppy for the past few days while he's down in Ocean City. Whenever I let pup out or take her out for a walk, my cats give me these dirty looks because they totally want to go outside too. I really want to be like "Look Riley and Steve, I have to take this dog out because she poops and pees outside. You cats, on the other hand, poop and pee in a box that I clean out for you. In many ways, you have it easier than this puppy, who has to find suitable spots to drop one and two bombs." If cats could talk back, they'd probably be like "We'd be happy to go outside, if only you'd let us. You are a cruel and malevolent overseer. Give us wet food, fuck." If I were to let them outside though, there's no doubt in my mind that these cats would either get lost, get eaten by a street cat or get run over by an old Cutlass blasting Mike Jones. Those cats are soft.

Awhile back I responded to a Craigslist post asking for hip-hop writers for a new magazine based in Philly called The Foundation. I spoke to dude in charge awhile back, and he seemed pretty enthusiastic about the whole thing; the mag is basically going to focus on "mixtapes and the mixtape industry," a phrase that makes me think of "propane and propane accessories" a lot. I got an e-mail today telling me that they were going to send me a mixtape to review for the "pilot" issue which is being put together right now. I'm looking forward to it. Other hack reviews of shit like Pumpkinhead, Why?, Blood of Abraham, Doom/Danger and some guy named Infinito are coming to an Okayplayer reviews section near you sometime soon. If you're one of the one people who don't have anything better to do with your life, read 'em. Also, I'm really sorry.

I'm considering e-mailing this person vaguely requesting an "Asian writer." I can't help but wonder why they are being so specific; what do Asian writers offer that Cherokee or Belizean writers do not, other than a knowledge of how to cook rice real good? I can whip that shit up quick... the process involves so much more than just rice and water. Actually, no it doesn't. I also wonder if I'll qualify considering that I'm only half-Asian.

Kinda old news (where else but the Internet is a three-day old story old news?), but MOP is messing with G-Unit now. Expect many gun onomatopoeias interjected into Tony Yayo songs. CLACK CLACK CLACK!

2 comments:

kibbythugsquad said...

Drew, even though you are only half-asian i believe that you will meet the necessary qualifications for the craigslist poster since you are obsessed with all things asian. Also, you are hungry. how wierd is that? i've decided that rather than "help young adults enter the workforce and become self-reliant" (yes, that is our motto) I am instead going to comment on your blog every day since it seems a far more productive than helping these jerks find a "job" or a "house" or "healthcare"... whatever.

Drew said...

well-put, kibby. i appreciate that you've started using your thugsquad moniker again, shit's kinda hard. have fun tonight at the carrot restaurant.