Monday, July 31, 2006

Through the Sieve

diddy getting off
dre keyshia cole somebody
dipset movement muzik tape
jr writer el plaga presents write this way
lil keke underground
akon styles p blown away
nelly furtado, pitbull, rick ross prom girl rmx
serius jones get gwop
serius jones hell for a hustla




Sunday, July 30, 2006

Through the Sieve
question trey songz so cool
young jeezy cte summer 06 promo
big mike the rulers back part 3
grit boys 3 tape
lil weavah underground music
rick ross ruler 2
game face of la mixtape
dj bobby black down & dirty 20




All the Glitter is Not Gold

Bling, Bling Killed Rap?
Many question how this phrase and object took over a genre along with the entire industry and whether or not it killed rap. Bling did indeed blur reality. It obscured the ultimate intention of true hip-hop. But I do not believe it killed rap, rather rappers who bought into it too much maimed themselves. An object and a way of life can have an effect. But we saw this coming. The gold chains in early years, liquor aplenty and a smorgasbord of cars held down the rappers of the 90s. So with rap being introduced to pop culture status, the extra zeros could only buy so much more. It was only natural. Thus it was only natural then too, that as the rapper’s morals eroded, their material, flow and style would follow suit and deteriorate beyond belief. The roller coaster effect seems to be true: what goes up eventually comes crashing down.
Cash Money started the onslaught of the new age arrogance and most every act had to outshine. Bragging is inherent as a rapper. To be the best, the flyest and have the newest objects is a duty, not an ideal. Cars, foreign estates followed the ice. From simple necklaces and bracelets, the bling changed rapidly to glimmering chalice and to hilarious teeth.
Rappers are hollow in their rhymes; it as if we are hearing Xanadu, rather than seeing it. By just obtaining such bling a rapper seems to be enlightened enough to rap. But rapping about bling, women and cars just gets tiring after a while. Bling is pop now, so it sells. If you bring no bling, you’re not taken seriously, especially on the radio.The good news: the tide will go back up eventually. I do not think people will care too much for this nonsense rap anymore. The only problem with getting the pendulum swinging is that there is a lack of actual rappers with talent. It will take those with talent coupled with heavy, hitting production teams to wound the Bling era. People need to be wooed back and not necessarily with conscious rap. There needs to be a mixture of bling-consciousness and it needs be used in such a way to wean those bling whores off of that mess.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

Erectile Dysfunction

Everyone suffers from this affliction of male prowess. Not being able to “get it up” is a major concern for many countrymen around the world. Because of the lack of libido, people are not being able to be pleasured and in turn fucked. It as if the leaders of our free worlds are the porno directors and the actors play the scientists hired to construct the bomb. Albert Einstein is viewed as the king of Libido, a cult hero. Einstein takes the place of Ron Jeremy. So the actors are standing there naked and vulnerable, flaccid. They need direction, technology and money to perform. These actors work year round, testing numerous times a day even. The testing naturally occurs on mother Earth herself.
The North Koreans recently believed they could hit an American woman, across the room, in the face, but failed. Their missile veered right missing the South Korean woman and landed on the floor. Iran so desperately wants to get accepted into the porno acting guild. It cannot, so it is acting on the sly, learning anything, from anyone and in any position no matter how awkward. The Indians, in secrecy and without approval, erected a sleeping Cyclops giant. The Pakistanis stole a Dutch penis pump in order to enlarge their functioning powers. And the Israelis spent numerous hours denying their ever present bulge. As for the rest of the porno actors in training, they have tried to “get it up” but were unsuccessful or forced to deal with their sexual tensions inward. The five pimps of the porno world flexed their muscle towards the feeble lame dick nations. They threatened others by slapping them in the face with their muscle until submission. American libido is strong as ever, no gimps there. Virile Americans can’t wait to display their attributes. Russia used to be reliable, but when ready, their junk just did not work (crappy mechanics I guess). The cameras stopped rolling. Russia was kicked to the curb. Ashamed as they were, they vow to come back with vengeance. The British are geezers who need Cialis to get their kinks worked out. The French never had any balls. And the Chinese are never taken seriously. It’s the not the size, but the motion of ocean that counts they claim. Everyone wants to be a big boy, but not all can do so. Sexual aggressiveness needs to happen in order to function. In long lasting relationships it is also a useful bargaining tool. Disallowing such activities retards growth and redirects sexual aggression into promiscuous and destructive annals. Allow others to join in the fun I say, as more members would allow for a spirited, fun filled orgy!

Through the Sieve
juelz weezy dem girls (mashup)
tru life snitch set dipset diss
clipse slim thug whamp whamp
weezy juelz ww3 (mashup)
j hood beginning of the end mixtape
posta boy enyce real recognize real mixtape
25 (50's cousin) who is 25 mixtape
maino king of the city mixtape
tru life new ny movement mixtape




Friday, July 28, 2006

Through the Sieve


S.E.G.A. BOYS Drop
don’t make me snap
Georgia orignal
good pussy posse
no place to hide
dope aint mine
nitti number 1 record
streetz patti cake man
dj neil armstrong oscillate wildly
gnarls biggie collabo
jim jones mob mixtape
govament bun b talking bout us
paul wall grit boys now or later paint
paul wall young cash disco ball
young dro cartoon
nakia shine respect my shine




Thursday, July 27, 2006

Condi 500

If You Must Ask by Condi Rice
Yes, that is a gap in my mouth. I call it a beauty mark; one that my Alabaman roots are more than proud to display. When I was a kid everyone would stare at me for my gap. They seemed to want to ask how I came by such a beauty mark. I would tell them, “practice, practice, practice”. And then they insisted I show them. The deed was done. A star was born; the savior to this Evangelical nation. In adulthood it persisted, as I always got this look when I was in public. I just wanted to yell hallelujah. All these dirty, old men fixed their faces in sheer glee. I just smirked and giggled. People love me and my gap. When I was at Denver I was heralded around campus, by my young Republican friends, as something special of the future. I would not go onto walking on water, turning fish into wine nor healing retards. I would be the one to widen the gap. And so I proceeded like the great Moses. My mark began to widen just like the Red Sea. Each time I moved on up, my teeth would spread a nanometer to each side. I was like the girl Pinocchio. Each time I strummed a guy’s guitar, my gap would widen.
So now you know why I’m at where I am at. We all gather round the in the oval office for sleepovers every so often, you know to plan mischievous doings around this merry globe we control. While George, Dick, Donny, Colin, Paul, Ari, Ashcroft, Ridge and the rest would hoot and holler, I’d spread peace throughout the lands (Colin was ticklish and that derelict resented that. He resigned (from me as well) after our miscarriage; the greatest baby born to this nation: Zeus). It was my mission: the Condi 500. I still haven’t gotten there, though I am practicing hard. See that’s why I pleaded to Mr. Bush to obtain Secretary of State. My main initiative was to spread peace, democracy and diplomacy. I talk to the world, although my jobs do all the talking (I can’t really talk to foreign leaders with there stuff in my mouth). I give them my word and I swallow. America will be there to take the bad with the good. We’ll take your mess in our face. That’s what I embody: an all American woman.
I do not like to discuss details since they are confidential (psst… Putin is always in the mood for peace talk (he’s always drinking vodka) so hit him on his Nextel when you want to talk peace). I enjoy my job to the fullest extent. I realized the work I was getting into long ago and I accepted it wholeheartedly. I just stopped by the Middle East the past few days. Things are getting grim. Nobody wants to talk to me over there. The Sunni’s are even shunning me. I am here to clear up the rumor that Mr. Ahmadinejad whispered to the Arab world. He said I gave Ariel Sharon chlamydia. I so did not. It was a mild case of herpes. And to you Mr. Chavez of Venezuela, I most certainly do not suffer from “sexual frustrations”. I would love spend a night talking peace with you in Caracas, serenading your buffoonish ears with the soothing sound my vacuum suction of a mouth. No more anti-Americanism people, more loving. Peace talks will flourish, leaders will fall head over heals after I pleasure them. They will be in such a euphoric la la land afterwards, they’ll willingly hand over their peoples lives to Americans. Ha, Ha, Ha. My mouth was made for sucking and that’s just what I’ll do. Don’t worry Americans, by my mouth I will make peace on Earth.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Lance Bass is Gay? Like OMG!

John Norris of MTV just mentioned ‘Nsync’s Lance Bass is gay on TRL. Well, whoop de doo. Why should I give a shit? When it was mentioned the audience gasped in what appeared to be, utter amazement and grave despair. Were girls still calling his name and disappointed? Heck one look at Lance Bass and one should know that he is gay already. Why was it such a revelation? It seems that ‘Nsync’s boy fans just got reinvigorated. Why the shock? I did not even think people remembered them anymore. Furthermore who cares who he sucks on his own time? All this means is more young girls for you and me, so why fret? In this homophobic America why do we gossip about someone’s sexual preference? America actually cares about gays and needs them to feel better. A sigh, awww.

Through the Sieve
cassie yung joc call you out
pharrell in my mind cd retail
dmx year of the dog again cd retail
lil waye jump jiggy
pitbull ying yang twins mr. bojangles
yung joc dog ryda girl rmx
nelly furtado rick ross pitbull prom girl rmx
rick ross port of Miami cd retail
rick ross lil wayne im a g
gnarls barkley nelly furtado crazy rmx
janet Jackson put it on me


A Nation on Foreign Drugs words from Saddam Hussein’s Testimony

I swear during those first few weeks of the war in March, I was on the edge man. I was running from underground bunkers to friends houses in desperate fear, jittery as hell. That’s when I resorted to crack. See I had been on ecstasy leading up to the war. I was acting as this whole thing was a non-stop dance party. My brigade and I attended all night raves in Baghdad, Najaf and Um-Qasar. The summer of ‘02, those were the best days of my life. What I was telling the international community, especially my buddy George, was vague to say the least. My conversations were a charade. I had been partying on ex for about a year all over Iraq before the war started so of course I’d be delusional and nonsensical. I mean c’mon I knew I had no WMDs, hardly any army and not many true civilian supporters rallying behind me. In my right mind do you think I’d challenge those Texas, steak eaters to a duel? Trust me I’ve tried before. My country men, them bastards! They were just jealous of the paparazzi shots, in Extra, Extra Iraq, of me out and about, with numerous men and women hanging off me like appendages. I was a wonder of the world; the Hanging Garden of Saddam. We took Saddam bomb shots all night long and is was on me too. Hell we were drinking off American money and trust me there’s no better way. Soon though, those threats became reality. See, on ex, life is a fantasy. So when the bombs came over Baghdad my battle ship sunk. Reality struck. When inside the bunkers, we had no legit ‘shine. We had no ex, no good pine in the dash, nothing. So my generals and I resorted to lacing our Afghani opium with what would end up killing me. We began to run out of the opium, so we bolstered it with some crack that those damn Iranians gave us for free. Never, ever take free crack. Unbeknownst to me it was American Crack – the worst, shittiest drug out there. Those Iranians wanted us to suffer. I had no American money left so I resorted to being a crack head whore. It ripped us apart; my party member loyalists began to fall victim to the crack attack. They were killed, strung out or even became so desperate they ventured out for a fix during the day and were caught by U.S. forces. I remember in November of 2003 beginning to become extremely desperate. I’d sell myself for smallest rock possible. We had to make runs to the Iranian border and I’d pleasure Shiites any which way. You’d think they’d be satisfied with 6 wives and their cousins, but no, not the least bit. I even resorted to looting my mansions and sold some Iraqi artifacts in order to get high. I had no care in the world. Eventually I was so unaware of what was going on I fell victim. Hearing reports of U.S. forces closing in on me, I hid in a spider hole for 18 hours. Man I was bugging out, I hadn’t taken a hit for 3 days and had been up all through that time as well. I was caught. My addiction to American crack caused a ripple effect. Soon Iraq crumbled. I had done so much for this nation. I created the Iraqi party scene, which was the best spectacle, this side of the Tigris. It was a fuse between Euro raves and Middle East hookah parties. The bloody, ego driven Americans wanted to obliterate my legacy on my Iraq. They destroyed what’s left of the Iraqi dance/club scene. Late night tipping in Tikrit, La Bamba-ing in Basara and Krumping in Kirkuk was no longer possible. The Americans burned all my recordings of my ground breaking dances – the Najafi Knee Jerk and the Basara Bounce. The world will never know. They are cutting me off. My final words to the whole world and especially the poor, down trodden U.S. citizens and disenfranchised youth: AMERICAN CRACK KILLS!

Monday, July 24, 2006

Through the Sieve

following 2 links are tapemasters inc we run ny
dj mello gun talk 9 its business, never personal
dj kay slay cant stop the reign 3
rick ross trick daddy something goin on
dj unk crumb dont hide it divide it
ti trey songs uh huh
cassie pitbull me & you remix
t-hud ugk static major never thought
rick ross akon cross the line


Sunday, July 23, 2006

A Reporter At Large

What had happened was… By Ronny Ray Rawlings
You may have heard abou me leavings my 2 year old son in my Dodge hemi truck yesterday. Yeah, the authorities got all up in arms abou dat. Hell don know why e’rybody’s up in arms over a kid in a car for 4 hours. I routinely leaves my dog in der for days, he practiclly sleeps der. I gots moms all over me now, but unfortunately dis time they donts want me for my body. Actually I left my boy in der for a reason, see I ain never done dat on purpus. What had happened was… as I gots outta my hemi I was roundin the corner to open the door for my son, Ray Ronny (I’s calls him RaR, cuz I thinks he gon be ferocious like a tiger, like Tony the Tiger). But as I was turnin the corner I felt this bulge in my belly. Then I burpt, but dat was followed quickly wit one a dem farts dat you blow off, literally. See I didn hear nothing, no boom, so I was alarmed (its one dem silent but violent ones). Sure nuff I felt a lil wetness in my drawers. So I immeditly ran to inta the grocery store, craddlin my butt in case, to go number 2. Fortunately, alls the stalls was taken, so I treated myself to the aptly equip cripples toilet, you know the ones wit the extra room and handle bars so you can git some thrust action goin. I plop my cheeks to the porcelin witout noticin that the last cripple didn’t have the cortesy to flush. I goes anyways. It piled up fast. Next thing I know, der aint no TP. I bang on the next stall an luckly he tosses me some dat 1 ply. Afters I git out, I smell some brauts bein cooked over by the delicatessen. So I scurried over der likes a wabbit. I grabbed some baked Lays ‘fores I got der. Darn near had me a feast. Den I heard my tummy rumblins again. I felts this trickling sensation down my leg. Uh-oh, boy do I knows dat feeling, I remembers that time at my brother, Al Bob, son’s football game while I was standing in line for a Biffy, ironic idinit, well from der I ont wann talk about it. Buts I picked up some a dat fancy TP, Charmin and ran to shitter again. I jumped into the cripples stall again and relieved my concentrated anger inta dat der oval. The bearings on dat sucker damn near broke off. Next to me though, I herd this wail from the most manly of mans. He was my opposite; he was severely constapated. Lo an behold, it was my good friend Terry Needles. He needed somethin to hold onta, you to git soma dat thrust action I tellin you abou earlier. I reached under inta his stall wits my arm, so he could get some levrige. Dat didn work. I’s done an so was he (if yous wantin ter know he couldn go). I told Terry I’s still hongry. Der’s we go back to the braut stand. We’s got thirsty so we goes to the 3/2 section, gets some brews to go wit our lunch yer know. So we start gettin inter dis conversation abou the origins of languages and stuffs. We talked abou like why red is call’ red? An why we greets each other wits how ares you? You know like physiological stuff like dat. You know I bets they ain gonna teach my boy RaR musins like dat in school. See Terry an I’s gettin deep until “Jerry the Manager” (sissy fatso fya as me) come buttin in. He accuses us of freeloadin on dem samples right dat der at the braut sample aisle. He says we needs to leave asap. C’mon now, we got our brauts an walked round the store an den came back as new samplers yer see. We wasn freeloadin. Dats when I noticed RaR in my hemi an police ders an stuff. Lights an crowds of denizens almoss havin me seizurin. Now dats What Had Had Happened an dats the truff ya hear!


What’s hysterically funny and horribly sad is Lebanon is being destroyed and nobody gives a damn. The U.S. and Israel have told the whole world that it’s the damn terrorists fault – Not Completely True! They’ve pointed fingers and they will not stop terrorizing the Middle East. And the int’l community could care less. They stand idly by waiting for more innocent Arabs and Israelis to die. They laughed and snuggled last week at G8 convention and still no cease-fire agreement. No one cares! Idle people and those who refuse to help the crisis have no dignity. People on both sides are dying and nothing. Lies are bombarding American media sources it may bring a tear to your eye. A war is going on and one side is being slaughtered and huge, biased sympathies are being thrown towards the Oppressors. It as if one side has no fault. The media is awfully skewed as America has shown its propaganda machine is in full gear with the drove of bullshitty, fake journalism that has been on display in this pressing crisis (Larry King, you deserve to be anal probed). Don’t let them tell you what they want you to know. Go out and learn about this on your own. Support the decolonization of Palestine by the masked state of Israel headed by the U.S.- a FREE Palestine open to ALL.

Saturday, July 22, 2006

Trapstrs Anonymous

ATL, Shawty!
ATL’s advertising schemes made it look promising. Most reviews claimed it had missed but had a great look inside Atlanta and its surrounding cities. It really had promise after an agonizing start but it began to break apart due to acting and the hollow, off-point script. The script wants to be taken seriously as it brings it up some pertinent issues surrounding black America. It tried to be funny, serious, hard and realistic all at the same time. It failed miserably and the outcome was a mesh of all of the above that ultimately did not say anything about Atlanta and its trappers. The problem ensues when this film needed to be marketed? Execs, producers and ad buffs pondered how do we market a serious film about young black adults in an urban city? Who are we targeting? Blacks mostly, right? Yeah but also the mainstream, as “hip-hop” has invaded white America and has reached the glorified, craptacular pop status. So why has a supposedly serious black movie gone array? Because black is now pop and it sells. The movie starts out as a huge pop song, displaying all of the crunk hits the ATL is known for during the scenes at the Cascade. This poppy concept then plagues the rest of the movie.
Start with the leading man, Clifford “T.I. (TIP)” Harris, the most popular “hood/trapstar” around in all of music and not just the south. His acting was not that bad, but his switches from soft/sweet to caring to hard to funny do not seem right. Can any character or person ever make so many changes in a summer? His insistent hardness proved to be too much for the movie towards the end as all of the movie’s plot lines converged and crashed. And this is gangsta rapper T.I., so like Ice Cube, am I supposed to take him seriously as an actor in a Rap-Pop movie?
One of the movie’s messages is remember where you came from and to be proud of that. Well I guess T.I. isn’t proud of his past, esp. as his real name does not appear in any of the credits. The message of selling out is disheartening. This movie is supposed to be about true, black America (specifically ATL), but it ends up selling out in order to make money. Don’t sell out? Well, the real trap stars would not believe in your fairy tale ending where everyone makes it. The truth is very few people make it.
The plot looked decent as it displayed new high school graduates and their summer escapades while managing and soaking up the deterrents in the Atlanta heat. Too many topics were explored and that lead to none of them having any substance. Rashad (Clifford’s character) is artistically talented and can draw perfectly sketches in one try… I didn’t buy it! His little brother Ant, gets involved in drugs but hardly seems affected by it in any way. Big Boi, (Outkast rapper) the trap star, does not exude the toughness of his real counter part; he turns out to be a lollipop, flamboyant, shawty hustler (and I doubt that exists in the hood). Every little direction the movie goes in, it changes paths immediately. It seems so temperamental. Every nook and cranny of ATL life it intends to shine on, the substance being filmed evaporates in the blink of an eye. Hey, a blink of an eye, that’s a pop song. Welcome to pop culture club, ATL!

Yola says, “Throw Your Middle Fangers In The Air”
And scream “Hell To the Fuck Naw.” The newest ATLer to burst through the trap scene, Yola (aka Lil Yola aka Yola da Great) brings much more grit to his rhymes than those that have come before him. Before you catch onto a new ATLer, a new one seems to grow out of the woodworks. The south’s rap Mecca, ATL now wields tastes for almost anyone: Snap (rap’s r&b/pop) and Crunk (rap/pop) dominate. But now with Yola on the come up along with Lil’ Weavah, Dro, Jody Breeze, Joc, Jeezy and many others, the Trap style is making headway. Majors are cherry picking talent out of the ATL so fast, it seems anyone who can have a few noteworthy singles make just make it. Good Luck to Yola – props to your gritty and hopefully truer image. So "when it gets gangsta" turn to Yola!
yola bout our biz
yola fuck yall
yola aint nobody
yola addicted
yola dj unk dont make us
yola aint gon let up
yola dfb standing on the block
yola hush boy young capone w00d n pine
david banner yola get money
willie joe yola get em got em

Friday, July 21, 2006

I’m Not As Sought After As I Thought I Would Be

No 14 year old girls are running after me in public, like they did Joey Fatone circa 1999. No coffee dates. No drunken hook-ups. I mean throw me a friggin bone hear! No summer days drifting away, o wella wella I will tell you more but I wont put a fight. And no she didn’t get friendly down in the sand, it was sand she threw in my eyes, that rotten whore. No busty women are texting me. JC Chasez once said, “Some girls dance with women Knowing that it gives them attention." Girls just dance with women or even men but just not me. I guess they see me dancing with myself and don’t wanna bother me. Oh I am tired of girl’s answer’s: I want a guy who is nice to me and like who can make me laugh (chews gum and twirls hair). Well duh were you born yesterday you stupid bitch. Do you have to say you want a nice guy, I mean c’mon who wants a dopey retread who sends you back to your parents or a battered shelter with a tooth missing, two kids under 5 and one coming down to shoot.I’m not the slightest bit impotent. I ask a lot of questions and if you don’t answer them I’ll find you. I don’t spend 45 minutes doing my hair so it looks like I just got out of bed. I also do not highlight my hair but I do else where and I am not telling. I’m not always right, but I’m always wrong. When I do fart I say excuse me. I’m observant so I will know when you put on too much cheap perfume, just as I noticed on Oscar night that Jack Nicholson pronounced Capote “Capotay”. I have two working legs (there are some bummy dudes out there). I sing and impersonate Elvis Presley songs in the shower. My index toe is bigger then my “big toe”. I can throw a tennis ball a whole length of a football field. When playing hacky sack I usually am the one who kicks it far away because I hate you and all that you stand for. I can play a mean air guitar. I can’t swim so don’t blow up the plane I’m on. I can’t whistle either so don’t ask me to go to Lake Street so I have to hear you whistle at all those beautiful Mexican girls with those side burns. I can grow a beard like anytime I want but I always get this look like I am a creepy Arab who wants to touch your butt. I am not a creepy Arab, but I would like to touch your butt (just as long as it doesn’t say WIDE LOAD and if you haven’t defecated in the last 30 minutes).
You know years ago when I imagined myself at age 20 I didn’t dream of anything like this: scratching my ass, eating day old bread like a bum, drinking Listerine or even writing about my patheticness. I was somewhere in the Mediterranean whisked away by divas, sipping fine wine and reclining on a crushed velvet couch. Some exotic babe, most likely from the South China Seas, was feeding me Kraft Cheese Crumbables, a cocky Spaniard fanned me courtesy of her swelled labia’s. A hot blonde would be in back of me waxing my hairy ass, while an Irish red head entertained me with her thousandth rendition of the River Dance. Man those days would be beautiful. But here I am writing this at 1:11 AM early on a July morning realizing that I am single and it’s wonderful. Do I think you’ll ever know “Know Me”, doubt it! Do I dare waste my youthful days chasing a piece of ass, nah! You’re just a girl not yet a woman, maybe you need time, but maybe just maybe you need some sense knocked into you - Cuz I am not about to commit to celibacy. Hell No. From what I’ve gotten so far (not counting that strange experience that one sleepless night that led me to that woman who was a man who was a tranny) I can say commandingly I Want It All Night Long. I will not become a hermit amongst all these scantily dressed vixens nor a victim of the no sex in the champagne room. Alas, I am done with my rant. I will now shut off the lights, go to bed, alone, hungry, and weeping. In there I will wither and die. But not before I jack off in my sheets about you.

You Genius: Heaping insurmountable piles of shit

There’s been a rumor (it’s actually true) that film director Woody Allen and actress Scarlett Johansson have been dating each other. At the very least, they’ve been seeing each other; she has already starred in a second movie of his. The thought of the hottest star in Hollywood even mingling with the most neurotic dweeb gives me reason to kill myself. Woody, you’re the antithesis of beauty. Scarlett you’re such a starlet. I have a hard time wondering how, in her right mind, she can even touch Woody’s wood. She outshines him in every way: her voice is deeper, she’s taller and a better actor. Did I mention the sharp contrast in beauty? One look at Woody and you begin to dry heave. One look at Scarlett and you soil yourself, in a good way. One viewing of an Allen movie and you’re intrigued, but irritably annoyed at Allen’s egghead acting. You would like to go to New York (idk, Lower East Side or wherever he resides) and punch him vigorously in the face. One view at Scarlett in a movie and you’re seduced. You know you can’t bed her so you’re relegated to sitting, jaw-dropped, in a motionless trance, staring at the aptly figured femme fatale. How are such opposites together? This must be a Beauty and the Beast re-enactment, Allen’s real life encounter with a woman… A tidbit of how Woody Allen is the most vulgar human being out there: he wrote a horrible scene in his 80s film, Crime and Misdemeanors. This is a warning to you Scarlet; don’t be swayed to Allen’s cavernous eccentricities, like many famous actresses already have. Woody Allen’s sister is telling her brother about the guy she’s been dated a few times. It goes as such: They’ve gone on a few dates, but as for the most recent date (and last hopefully), he took her salsa dancing. They had a great time, finally being able to connect. So he whispers in her ear and they head to her place. They feverishly commence necking before they cross the door’s threshold and do not let up. From there the horror draws nearer. On this third date with him, she admits she still did not know him that well, but that they engaged in sexual relations. No clean-cut fucking took place. He persuaded her that he and his previous partners had had sexual enlightenment, nirvana if you will, by way of S&M. He ties her arms and legs to the bed posts; defenseless to her sexual passions, sort of in a King Kong fashion. He was no King Kong, but what he did next is an animal tactic, an instinct or a call of the wild. After laying her, he got up but did not untie her. He climbed upon the bed, dropped his briefs and squatted. There he took a massive dump on her naked stomach and chest. We don’t see this but the imagination of such an event is endless. She tells Woody she’s traumatized. She sat tied up, with crap on her chest. The sight and smell of the dung (esp. if he ate some beans) must have dulled her senses. I relay this story to tell of Woody’s grand, diabolical plan for Scarlett and others as this geeky low life seeks hotties by luring them into his trap. Months from now when Woody perches upon your bed and straddles your torso and lets loose, I’ll say, I told you Scarlett!

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Through the Sieve

young dro presidential
jim jones weezy downfall
gillie da kid cannon lil wayne diss
neyo tru life sex love rmx
ransom pain & glory
hood invasion 4 mixtape hosted by jim jones
dj chuck t kiotti & trae tx street hustlenomics
dj chuck t 27 tape
pastor troy crossroads
rick ross mario winans get away
gunit pearly gates
remy ma Bronx blocks
Saigon immortal technique just blaze dead prez impeach the prez
fat joe styles shottie season


Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Best Thang Since Sliced Bread

He Said What: A Change Gon Come! Welcoming Kiotti
It's been a long time since someone was going to take over the Houston scene. Flipperachi flirted with it 2 years ago, but has been busy, apparently, with satisfying his European fans. You actually need yours Flipper! Slim Thug grew lazy and has ostracized himself in H-Town and thusly confined himself to his Boss Hogg Outlaws crew. He has since become a popular R&B rapper, a new phenomena these days in pop rap. Chamillionaire’s Ridin’ Dirty can only take him so far. The vets, UGK, are good together but are washed up at this point. Paul Wall aspires to be a gimmick – let him be! So we are left without a heavy hitter. And all the others: Lil’ Keke, Chingo Bling and Trae most notably, I just don’t know if the mainstream is their thing.
And then there was Kiotti (pronounced Yotti). He is about to kill the competition. In fact, he already has. He’s been dropping bombs on mixtapes for over a year now. The skills he possesses are on display on any DJ 31 Degreez, Chuck T, or Evil Empire Be South tapes. His flows can ride the beats and lyrically he spits streams of consciousness that jump from witty, to hilarious, to just plain sick. Topics vary and are not stuck H-Towns habitual killers: drinking lean/oil and grillz. However, his guilty pleasure is to eloquently describe his love for cars, “’84s poking out”. He has the ability to jump on someone else’s beat and do a better job than the originator. His own songs are polished enough that he cannot be taken lightly as just a mixtape artist; he rides past that. With braids and shades plastered on his face, along with his infectious laugh, he is ready to invade your ears. He arrogantly displays the truth, “Freestyle is so fly”, his fashion, “no grill in my mouth”, his comedic side, “skeet semen in her eye lashes now she outta sight”, his status, “puffy calling that’s a big deal” and his creativity “money is my antibiotics so my pockets never hurt.” If you haven’t heard Kiotti, now’s your chance to, so take a second out of your day and listen to the next best rapper! And remember where you heard it first, a kissmyass exclusive!!!
kiotti trap nigga - funniet, realest verse in a while
kiotti across the states - nice shiiitt
kiotti believe it - start believing in kiotti
kiotti whats on my mind - move over weezy fuck bitches
kiotti play house - over dc's cater to you, ugh!
kiotti new ish - bumpin the htown ish
kiotti chop chop
kiotti chingo bling rollin on 24s
kiotti still freezing
kiotti menace southern shottas - goes over another beat and spits shit
kiotti phone song (minute plan) - hottest club beat this year
kiotti eazy e real motherfuckin gz - aint scared to shine on this beat
kiotti swangin - a ridin song

Monday, July 17, 2006

Breaking News: In Haifa they gets Hyphy

Apparently Israel, esp. Haifa started the rap movement, Hyphy. It says so in the good book, somewhere in Genesis. So pay homage to Haifa, not the Bay for the Hyphy zeal! (whatever you don't understand is Yiddish slang)
[Hook x2]
Tell me when to go... Tell me when to go...
Tell me when to go... Tell me when to go...
Go bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb
[Verse 1: E-85]
Ooh. Jesus Christ had locks, so shake em
I aint got none, but I'm planning on growing some
Imagine all the Hebrews going to bomb
Dancing on top of Yugos and turning tight ones (eeerrrrr)
Ooh, tell me when to go (bomb)
Talking on my ghettro on the way to the store
... My 2nd or 3rd trip
Some Latkas, some Matzas and some Haifa whores
Dr. Strangelove, just to ease my thoughts
Not just the Arabs, but the homies you got to watch
The sky is dark, missiles passing the clouds
Sitting in my scrapper, watching Haifa go wild... Ta-dow
I don't bump Yahu, I knock underground
All that other shit, sugar-coated and watered down
I'm from Haifa where we hyphy and go bomb
From the soil where them Zionists be getting their lingo from
[Hook x2]
Tell me when to go... Tell me when to go...
Tell me when to go... Tell me when to go...
Go bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb
[Verse 2: Judas Da Sneak]
I'm off that 47 purple juice....
Like a mayne, labeled the Tan Zeus
King of the super dooper hyphy (hyphy, hyphy, hyphy, hyphy)
And your wife, she don't like me (like me, like me, like me, like me)
From Haifa to the A
Put me in the Yugo, go to the store
Arabs wish I wrote, I said they couldn't be saved by JC (JC)
I slid past on the gas, Arabs looking at me
It's good, it's good I’m like they granddaddy
Cross game, you get flipped like a domino
Or zig-zagged... smack you like my ho
.... I drink white, with my snow honey
Talking BIG SHIT in the scrapper, going hella dummy
1800, Jose Cuervo
Yaddadamean, yaddada I'm saying though
[Hook x2]
Tell me when to go... Tell me when to go...
Tell me when to go... Tell me when to go...
Go bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb
[Outro: E-85]
[x4] Ghost-ride the whip
[x8] Now... Bitch
[x4] Put your stunna shades on
[x2] Now... Gas, brake, dip, dip
[x4] Shake them locks
[x4] Let me see you show your grill
[x4] Now... Thizz face
[x4] Doors open, mayne
[x4] Now... Let em nuts hang
[x2] Go stupid, go (bomb, bomb)

Not Telling the Whole Truth

The ongoing struggle in the Middle East has been widely critical of Hezbollah, Palestine, Iran, Lebanon, Syria and Hamas. Reports have been in favor of Israel and the Jews. Reading about this war in U.S. newspapers is very one sided and don't you dare watch this on TV, as CNN slathers a sympahtetic Israelis view. My gripe is this: I don't favor one side at all, I just want the actual news to be reported, then one can form an actual opinion of what's going on. CNN stays inside Israeli cities, showing how terrible life is there for Jews. I'm sure it is scary with a constant threat of missles being launched. But they have shelters, homes etc. I'm not saying they have it good at all, but compared to Palestinian residents or Lebanese citizens, it is much worse. CNN doesn't go into war torn Beruit, showing Israel's rampage. They don't show Lebanese children. Yet they show Israeli children in a shelter playin with toys. What a Lebanese boys is doing? Crying that his home and his toys are gone and that if he survives he'll somehow have to find a new home. The slanted media is terrible. In the NYTimes, it stated that in Iran all they show is the Palestinian side. That's bad too, but we're doing the same and the U.S. is supposed to be the freesest country on earth. People be weary of what you actually hear. The truth, It's quote in an Iranian paper, "The question is not whether Iran is giving Hezbollah weapons or not, The U.S. is giving weapons to Israel... The issue is the humanitarian catastrophe in Palestine." Regardless of all the banter you hear from either side, the fact is all the angst is b/c of the displacement of Palestinians. And why this has not been resolved. If you look deeper, you'll find out why this hasn't been resolved and that the U.S. is doing their usual. The case for Israel: Iran and Islam wants to destroy Israel whenever they get the chance, there's truth to that. But Israel (and the U.S.) wants to destroy Islam, there's truth to that.
150 Lebanese have been killed, mostly civilians so far as of Sunday July 16. 23 Israelis have been killed, half soldiers. There's the difference. Lebanon is being destroyed because they harbor a terrorist group Hezbollah. A human life is a human life no matter what, not matter how many - taking it is wrong. But how its viewed and done: Hezbollah fights w/ missles (only a few have hit targets and not many have been slain). Israel? They've got ships, tanks, air strikes and they've just about ripped through Lebanon's major cities cauing innocent civilian causilty. Legal Terrorism by Israel w/ the help of the U.S.?
Well what did Hezbollah do, they helped Lebanon end an Israeli occupation in Lebanon for 18 years back 2000. So that's terrorism? Sure Hezbollah may have ties to the Lebanes gov't and Syria and Iran. Israel has concrete, tangible ties to the U.S. Which is worse? Israel is playing like there are no rules, everyone (media & leaders included) is saying that Hezbollah needs to stop first, then maybe (only when prisoners are returned) will Israel let down. That's not a fair game. This just didn't start a few weeks ago, it has been brewing for a long time. The cease fire needs to happen by both sides. Not this if bullshit. If I've got my fists and the man next to me has a gun, and I'm told to put down my fists and then he'll put down his gun, do you think I'll trust him?

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Through the Sieve
jay z true song mash-up
kanye west no doubt workout life mash-up
ludacris trick daddy sean paul the archies temperature of sugar
jay z modest mouse change clothes & float on mash-up
oasis lynyrd skynyrd jkown sublime wonderwall mash-up
Gucci mane 745 diss
squad up we are the squad
project pat young jeezy tell tell tell
jeezy ya dig
lil wayne stuntin like my daddy
cassie yung joc diddy ja rule method man me &you rmx

Saturday, July 15, 2006

Some FLA Boys! Da Bottom Bitch

Miami, Florida has been home to some of the hottest babes in the country for years, but until recently their music scene has been questionable to say the least. Trick Daddy never could top his first album and has been MIA numerous times. And all of the other acts have been too small to catch any attention. I guess it took ATLer Lil’ Jon to hook up with Pitbull a few years back to get things heated up. Now FLA is destined to be heard…

Rick Ross
You’ve heard “Hustlin” so much you’re sick of it, but Ross has teamed with Def Jam and will drop in August. He has been coming hard on mixtapes recently. After being in the shadows at Slip-N-Slide for the past few years, Ross needs to display he isn’t a one hit wonder and more importantly has a style that we cannot get annoyed of. He plagues his songs by chiming “Ross” and he brags about selling coke so much I’m wondering if he has ever touched it before. His flow though is a plus and he has teamed with great production teams to make sure he can be taken seriously. Bragging about himself alone wont help him gain recognition as he is famous now for his shades and full beard puffing on a cigar.
rick ross boss
rick ross push it
rick ross chevy ridin high rmx
rick ross blow
rick ross promiscuous girl
rick ross torn remix

The rapper that hasn’t been heard of outside of the 305 is probably the best rhymer out of all of the 305ers, but does not have major labels and popular acts behind him, yet. From Lil’ Haiti, Smitty comes hard on so many of his songs it’s about time people noticed him. Definitely check him out you’ll appreciate his style, which is reminiscent of some old west coast shit (esp. Dr. Dre, who he’s worked with and wrote the unreleased Pretox album) but does have hint of south and even east coast in him too.
smitty akon i’m a hustler
smitty lil’ haiti
smitty chingo bling you already know
smitty i wonder
Nice beat, some FLA fiya. garcia, pitbull, smitty - vice city

Friday, July 14, 2006

What's Happening While You're Living Your Merry Life

Say What!
Actually I haven’t heard much about this. The ongoing struggle between Israeli and Palestine has heightened to life or death proportions in past few weeks, yet the American media has said little about this. What happened? An Israeli soldier was kidnapped by Hamas, the acting Palestinian government. In retaliation and instead of diplomacy, the Israeli army invaded West Gaza (where all the Palestians have been forced for the past 60 years). Instead of early morning birds chirping, you’ll hear fire and bombs on both sides. Israel has an army, tanks, checkpoints and actual cities. Most of their military is in aid money from the U.S. They have “THE BOMB”, but Iran nor “rogue” states cannot have it. Israel, supposedly, the bigger man, has ability to change what’s happening to their own citizens. Palestinians on the other hand have been kicked around for the last half century, stooping in ghettos, refuge camps, with no home of their own. What do they do, what do they look forward to? Palestine has no army, no modern weapons, no voice – nothing! They are labeld terrorists for blowing themselves up and being martyrs. These are their only weapons folks. The U.S. does not give them aid. So who supports Palesestine? Middle Eastern countries, such as Iran (thusly the U.S. is furious at Iran but later on that) So Israel bombs and destroys what’s left of Palestinians bleak lives and its okay? They are both bastardly acts. Both bombing and terrorist attacks are wrong. Both kill innocent lives. But when you are being pushed and bullied diplomacy seems futile. So you fight back. But with what? Yourself! That’s the ultimate sacrifice and patriotic thing to do. Some radical jihadist comes by, brainwashes them that Allah has a mission for them: destroy the infidels, that’s where it gets out of control. Israel recently, in search of the kidnapped soldier, has bombed electricity plants cutting out power to Palestinians and clean water has been hard to find. Now have massively bombed and destroyed neighboring Lebanon because Hezbollah is firing rockets into Israel and has kidnapped 2 soldiers. Israel has captured hundreds of political figures in the past months without actual convictions too. So Israel obliterates Lebanon’s border, airports and what’s left of Palestinian camps because they have the right to defend themselves against terrorism. That’s what Bush said. Well then how would Israel do without U.S. aid? Hmm, so what Israel is doing is okay? Not at all. The E.U. condemned Israel as using disproportionate use of force in search for captives. Well then, Palestine, through Hamas and Hezbollah and other networks, are defending themselves too. Israel now is set to attack Syria because of ties to Hezbollah. Iran’s president warned that if that happens it’s “like attacking the whole Islamic world.” Iran is also accused now of harboring the kidnapped victims. This is a religious dispute. The area is a holy land for two religions. Squabbles ensue over it displaying another problem of how religion is no good. Back to the U.S., keeping their interests in mind it’s clear as day why they don’t report such events. The media is also highly in favor of Israel as many Jewish people have positions in the media. We support Israel, because we want a foothold in the Middle East. We want to spread democracy anywhere and everywhere. Good intentions, right? On the surface, yes, but look deeper and you may see to meaning of all this depressing, non stop altercations. Why can’t we all just get along? Valid question, but as inhumane as this sounds, the U.S. does not want people to get along. They feed off of friction. They’ve made money off Israel and in return are granted strategic positioning inside the Middle East. We want that bloody oil. Look at all the people being killed for our damn cars and even more disheartening, so the oil companies can get richer. This is what’s happening today and it’s been happening forever. Iraq? Iran? America is trying to take over a people and change a way of life. They want what they want, but it’s not their land. Most of the Middle East (exception being Israel) is against America’s promiscuous nature, as they should be. Let them handle their business. If the U.S. and Britain did not fuck around so damn much with that area, none of this would be happening especially 9/11. Arabs are mad because they’ve been raped, wouldn’t you? Granted democracy should be pushed everywhere. No one deserves to be controlled. But we make money off dictators. Why are we mad at Castro, Stalin, Il because they want to do things on their own. They don’t believe in teaming w/ a nation who destroys cultures for the almighty dollar. Look at all of the CIA backed coups of the past 50 years. We were behind most of them. Tyranical regimes held firm, people’s rights were abused, yet we made it happen and made deals. Guatemala, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Indonesia, Pakistan are just a few examples. America your hands are bloodier than ever. Israel you are being allowed to commit mass destruction as occupiers, I don’t know how you can live with yourself. This isn’t anti-semetic, this is a human reaction to the cold hard facts.

Through the Sieve
swishahouse in these streets
papoose law library part 3 papoose 1.5 million man mixtape cop asap!
rick ross where my money
rick ross boss
ludacris pharrell money maker
pastor troy crossroads
dj chuck t down south slangin 27
papoose mike jones paul wall live on the block
hell rell die motherfucker die
jody breeze (boyz n da hood) ATL best kept secret tape
rick ross push it

NOTE ALL MIXTAPES: password is:


Thursday, July 13, 2006

Spitting Obese Techniques: An Urgent Message from Rick Moranis

In these troubled times with war, governmental control and gas prices, all of us Americans are anxious. So we do what we do best: EAT! There are damn near hundreds of diets, new exercise equipments (please post Gazelle & Dick Enrico ads here) and an onslaught of crippling diseases caused by ingesting horrible foods yet we are not phased. We continue to consume like behemoths as if the world was ending (it actually is (thanks to Al Gore) and don’t wait for Jesus to save your sorry soul, you fat slob). I’ve been fighting this issue for 22 years. This is past serious and if we don’t stop this will have fatal implications. It started when I embarrassingly had to buy an extra seat on a plane for my portly, 8 years old son. He weighed 149 lbs at the time. Unfortunately, he passed away three years later. I found him at the tube with ankle weights, watching a Richard Simmons jazzercise video. Hunched over, he o’ded on Doritos and Klondike Bars. He tried, Lord! Why! Those Eskimos must be rolling in their igloo graves. I’ve fought nasty battles throughout the years, especially with childhood obesity and have lobbied incessantly. I decided a grand plan: I would market a movie to warn Americans of their perilous habits. My movie, Honey I Blew up the Kids, was delayed. When it eventually came out it was a well timed, documented story that brought up this burning issue. It clearly stated how we've gotten out of control and have blown are kids up. It was my belief to bring it out as a family fun movie so droves of faithful Americans would come, watch and subconsciously learn. I don't know if all of them heeded my advice, but that was my intended message. Oddly enough, in order to make my movie, Blew Up, I had to first make the food and exercise industries’ movie, ironically titled: Honey I Shrunk the Kids. I was furious as you can imagine with this lie and manipulation by the damn companies. After making Blew Up, I ran out of steam. Years passed, I ate and nothing. Action should have been taken. We’ve got fat wallets, phat cars and even fatter fingers. I’ve been thrown back into to fire by recent reports of cell phone companies getting sued for not having bigger dial buttons, as fatter kids are relegated to smashing the dial pad to call friends. I have posistioned myself accordingly to defend the fat children of America. The kids are ashamed, yet we litter their cartoon ads with unhealthy foods. Now we know a little better, so I should see all the flabby arms wailing in distress and all those double, turkey neck chins flapping hysterically, in a call for change. Ask questions people! Don’t just sit there and literarily, get shit tossed down your throat. We need a change, and you especially need to change; start with your clothes (you’re beginning to sweat profusely and I smell a mixture of hot dogs have that sat out too long combined with gooey, stale cinnamon buns). Run, fatty, run! Don’t eat fast food! It is not a good thing when your behind can make an ass grove in a chair/couch. Be the change you wish to see - no one is going to help you (they'd rather rain humliations upon what's left of your self esteem!) Don't Eat Back, Fight Back!

Through the Sieve

fab mo money, mo hoes
ludacris tell it like it is
lil' wayne face the nation
akon, plies (FLA) i wanna fuck
ryan leslie fat joe do it like u
freeway jay-z world war 3
cassie can't do it without you
lupe i gotcha
new raekwon tape
NYC stand up new jae millz last of the best tape
big mike summer 2k6 part 2 cop it!

NOTE: for mixtapes password is:


Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Through the Sieve

Lil Boosie, Yung Joc - Zoom
skyzoo turn it up
ac wrong place, wrong time
lil keke, bun b, pimp c, paul wall chunk up the deuce
pimp c, paul wall hold up
shawnna rick ross gangsta shit
shawnna ludacris he said she said
oldie but goodie. rhymefest, kanye west, qtip make it beter
chi town check him out new album in stores now. rhymefest tender thug
minnesota shit reppin’. jr writer street kingz when the lights go out
san antonio white boy got flow check out for real. question big mike freestyle
over ny shit. freeway philly shit
papoose go to war
new nas doesn’t hit as it should. nas where yall at


Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Through the Sieve
Nice beat, some FLA fiya. garcia, pitbull, smitty - vice city
Styles goes over "Grammy Family" beat. styles p. - in a zone
Hot Ass beat and flow. fat joe - damn
Alabama underground on the come up. attitude - don’t play
ATL shit, heat from boyz n da hood member. jody breeze 24 hrs
Nice collabo, good beat. fat joe, method man - yeah mean
On the come up, listennnnnnnnn. young dro - rubberbank banks
ATL club banger - ya gotta do the matrix. dj unk - slow it up
Fight Klub winner, New Jerz in here. serius jones, akon - on the block
Nice freestyle by ross. rick ross - i shot ya
Airin out jeezy, nice stuff. ludacris - war with the gods
squad up - guz n knapsackz
yung joc - jockin
lil' keke - the don is back
Oh yes, served slowed. paul wall, lil' keke - oh yes
kiotti, chingo bling - rollin on 24s
Good NYC freestyler. joell ortiz - ill street blues
You need to listen, meth finally comes. method - things they say
Don't need to say much. paposse - out in nyc
Pit gets at 'em. pitbull - lil story
Cop this ASAP, puto. chingo bling - chingo bling city
Junior writer's in the building. jr writer - making history
Listen immdiately, goes over Barney jingle, hotteset track of spring 06. skitzo - i luv jays
Finally something from BOH boss hogg outlaws (slim etc.) - recognize a playa
Stand up Dallas. dsr, slim thug, big tuck - tussle rmx
Oldie, bud goodie over d4l's man beat. yung joc - couple grand
NYCer airs out the south. tru life - song cry
NYCer brings back the 80s. tru life - all night long
Is it Filipino night, funny ass shit. aries spears - ll cool j gay prank call
NYCer gets @ Dipest, Listennnnn. tru life - dipset aired out
Nice mash-up with lean on me. dem franchize boyz lean w/ rock w/it rmx
young jeezy - i do this
Nice freestyle, fab might be comin. fab - mr. me too
ATL heat, up n coming, you need this. yola the great - i aint gon let up
RMX get it. pusha t, game, dre, fat joe, rick ross, dirtbag - chevy ridin rmx
Needed, nuff said. rick ross - blow
New crraccckkk. fat joe - click and revolve


Dr. Love On The Mic

So You’ve Just Had Sex Without a Condom…
What to do? Well, I have a few options for you. First things first (esp. if this is a one night ditty), an alias: this name has to throw her off. Names that are standard such as John, Luke or Matt are a great place to start. Caesar, JJ Ryder – No Good! The best names are when your first name is a last name and your last name is a first name. Try Anderson Cooper – it will boggle their mind. The first option that comes to mind is that you’re both drunk, so you’ll sleep and leave early the next morning and it will be forgotten. Hmm? The subtle approach doesn’t work – you’ve got to do something drastic. You will soon be found out and all hell will break loose. My second option for you is a decision you’ll have to make yourself depending on your ethics. You can either wait until she falls asleep and then run or you can just plain run the hell out of there. If you can run fast and maybe to another state, this may be your best bet. On the flip side this can cause alarm right away: she thinks something is wrong and then remembers you. Running also is not taken lightly by our society. Labels will hang around your head instead of a halo. LAME DICK! HOBO! PEASENT! RAT BASTARD! Etc., will be yelled when you are present. Trust me on this one, you should wait until she passes out and then, vamoose (by waiting patiently, she’ll forget who stuck it to her in the wee hours of that morning). If you’re desperate, you’ll partake in the worst option: marrying the chick. After sleeping over, you profess your love that next morning. From there, off you’ll go to elope in Vegas. Divorce, 74% of the time, happens within approximately 17 months. Your woman is pregnant again, the diaper bills are going through the roof and, in haste, you exquisitely parlay your 2 years of college into a security position at the mall. In despair, you’ll pick up smoking Camels and drinking cheap whiskey. However, clever fellows will do the honorable thing: ask her father’s hand in marriage. Please note this should only be done if you are witty and have woken up next to a hottie (if not, abort immediately). Date her for a few months and around your year anniversary pop the question. From there, it’s smooth sailing. A popular option, though it is rarely executed properly, is to come up with an alibi when she claims that the kid is yours. Many want to try their hand eluding the CSI stars, but folks that does not work. You will get caught in your own web of lies and you will look extremely foolish doing so, just ask Scott Peterson. A messy option if she decides to harass you: Abortion, hanger style! You’ve got to be a salesman to pull this one off otherwise you’ll be flogged. My last option for you is if cannot think of anything: punch her in the womb, right where it hurts. Caution this punch cannot be a twap, it must be an Ali powered jab; a swift, packed message. She will be in a drunken stupor anyways so the punch will throw her into a daze. This by far is the most successful option, mind you, as it gets the job done quickly so you will not have this rattling in your mind for days. Good luck in your endeavors.

Monday, July 10, 2006

Damn Foreigners!

France & Italy have more to offer than soccer: great movies!

Cache (Hidden) (2005)
A relevant, tense drama that afflicts not only those French bourgeoisie who tip toe around the film, but to all nations and people who have rode the coat tails of “inferior” beings. Director Michael Haneke’s slow moving lens focuses on a couple’s fears of paranoia by way of mysterious tapes and children’s drawings. However, this paranoia is not random. Georges, the main character, is haunted by what he did in his past. Haneke’s story speaks a nation’s brutal history and how issues have been swept under the rug. The movie may not hit you until days later, but his way of telling the story is magnificent. Time and time again we are delivered the facts. More so we don’t need facts or histories; we need people, pain, emotion and the stillness of a person coping. Nothing is given here. What we actually see is not the truth. What he hear in the background is the mystery. Please, Git r Dun!

Battle of Algiers (1965)
A harrowing look inside the decolonization of Algeria, this film is able to re-create a baby nation asserting its rights. In black and white, terrorist plots unfold in front of your eyes that look all too familiar. Both sides are as clear as day: the European accented French quarters amid the dishevled, frayed Algerian soon to come boom. Battles are fought and a war is won. Relevant today and especially when Africa was handed back, this needs to be seen.

The Barbarian Invasions (2003)
It’s Canadian, but it’s in French – so it counts! A father who’s his own man sickens and his family slowly warms up to his rescue. Heavy issues are talked about by all the family members. The invading new world has enveloped us all and it may devour sooner rather than later. Though this may seem glum, the film has its funny moments and is highly introspective. Journey through this movie and come to accept the things that are inevitable.

Monsieur Ibrahim (2003)
This buddy film of two people who aren’t supposed to get along is touching to say the least. A Jewish boy and a Muslim elder strike up a friendship in a working-class neighborhood of Paris. The father-son combo embark on daily lessons and later end up in Turkey for a dreary finale.

The Best of Youth (2004)
This 6 hour drama about an Italian family that spans 40 years is the best film I have ever seen. The story, images and acting is superb. With the amount of time the stories and character’s are able to unfold naturally. The subtle movements of the intrusive camera are mouth watering; they go oh, so close, yet not to disturb, but to capture the character’s feeling and true essence. If you haven’t seen this, you don’t know what film is and can do!

Life Is Beautiful (1997)
A charming Benigni soothes his son at a concentration camp with an ongoing game. With such a dreary situation at hand, Benigni is able to make us feel as good as the kid. He never gives up hope even as his world is crumbling all around him. His eventual death off-camera is the one of the worst feelings in all of film.

Cinema Paradiso (1988)
The cutest kid you’d ever seen makes this film. A kid falls in love with cinema and he later revisits his hometown. His relationship with the film operator is one of the best screen tandems ever. Movies are movies, not real life. Nostalgic, yes, Bella YES!

Others: Remember Me My love (2003), Triplets of Belleville (2003), The Chorus (2004), The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972), Il Postino (1995)

World Cup 2006

So the World Cup is over. The Italians danced in celebration for an hour after beating France 5-3 in PKs. Cameronesi (w/ that chic Bushido hair style) sat and juggled a pair of shoes as the rest of his teammates, in unison, sang and skipped in a circle. Their happy faces wont last too long as a reordering will shortly ensue due to players and coaches involved in match fixing scandals back home in the Italian Leagues. The French looked old and distraught, as Zidane went out hammering Materazzi in the chest. That didn’t particularly matter as the aged Trezeget went on to mess up an easy PK and lost it for France. Was Zidane’s act provoke? Surely. That seems to be the story of the 2006 World Cup. Brutal, dastardly attacks and flops riddled the cup. Why then were Americans unenthused? Flops, perhaps, as they’re truly un-American. Low scoring battles, probably. Not appreciating why the whole world is captivated and not even the slightest bit curious? Most likely. That’s odd because I thought Americans enjoyed melees. The Portugal v. Netherlands death match? The fights after the Germany v. Argentina? Wayne Rooney displaying true English brute and vagabond grit while stepping on a crotch? Zidane thinking this was a rugby match? The vicious elbow to McBride? The numerous slaps throughout games? What else do Americans want? Ironically, the American team displayed an intimidated, nervous, almost queasy style of play in their 3 matches. They were not ready to fight for their chance to win or even flop for that matter. They bowed out un-Americanly.
The Cup had its great moments: Germany, the host nation, beating everyone in sight; Brazil’s dazzling all-star team; the African teams showing some life (esp. Ghana); Australia coming of age; Talented Portugal on the cusp of winning; New stars introduced: Robinho, Messi, Tevez, Podolski, Riberry, Shevchenko, Milevskyi, Cahill, Essien, Didier, C. Ronaldo. And its bad moments: Tommy Smythe not commentating beyond the first round; Germany’s top dogs, Klose and Ballack, mustering no clutch performances; Goal Dancing was kept at a minimum; the Argentine coach not placing phenom’s Messi or Tevez in critical moments (esp. Messi), they would have won the Cup otherwise; Flops galore: mainly Portugal and Mexico; True thugs: England and Holland; the constant heckling to refs by many nations (esp. Italy); France’s goalkeeper, Barthez, looked like a sad, dog faced cartoon character throughout their run and didn’t do much to help; Ronaldinho and Ronaldo went missing along w/ Jan Kohler; the Asain teams looking clueless (esp. SArabia); Some stars left us with a few morsels, others with a bang: Beckham, Figo, Zidane, Roberto Carlos, Cafu, Raul, Henry, Viera. Overall the Cup was decent, with the first round mildly exciting. The following rounds were better as the competition was fitting, although the scoring was down. The favorites drowned out early with the improbable finalists engaging in mildly entertaining game after half time. The Italians won amidst match fixing allegations, (remember that dubious foul call in the Australia game that turned into a winning PK for Italy) how fitting.

@ the Cinema

Short Cuts (1993)
Robert Altman’s tale of L.A.’s specimens is humor drowned in the adulterers’ (characters) ever boring lives. Each person lies, is irate, depressed and all seem delusional that their lives will change. The highway’s the separate L.A.’s citizens in reality makes for a good movie, as Crash and Magnolia have demonstrated. Intertwining these much troubled men and women is an easier said then done. The hope that people play on with never dies. Disturbing and moving as a character study, this movie gets film gets a kick in the ass and will have you laughing (delirium may have kicked in as the actors display) by the ruckus earthquake that hits their oh so desperate lives. If you have 3 hours and have seen Crash and/or Magnolia you’ll enjoy.

Killa Season (2006)
Cam’ron Giles writes, produces, directs and acts in the most entertaining rap movie of the year. With freestyles, shootouts, a 101 on selling cocaine and decisive decision making, Killa Season is a must see. The decision of a life time: NBA or sell weed and later move onto cocaine? Cam you made the right decision, although was the NBA calling your name? Acting is out of this world, as Cam’ron’s emotions pour out of his every movement such as his utter despair when his niece is struck down at a local Papa John’s. We hear she was getting a small pizza (Cam’ron decided to reward himself w/ a small pizza too) for good grades; those S’s and E’s must have been dotted all over her report card. And in the next scene Cam’ron and fellow thugster Hell Rell commence crying b/c of the ordeal. Cam’ron’s tears apparently can reach the underbelly of his chin; Hell Rell (taking a cue from Sean Penn in Mystic River) cannot cry and tosses his face into his hands. Well done! The story-line is decent as we shown millions of three minute scenes that go nowhere. The constant hum-drums of the fiends were stupendously funny. Detail is of no importance as we see scenes in the movie at different times of action, where the characters have on the same clothes. I didn’t know the new $20’s were out in 1992 Cam? Man, Harlem really gets things fast. Costumes? Even better. Bling galore, 5950’s everywhere. Numerous bucket hats rested atop Hell Rell’s do, great sense of fashion, Mr. Rell. The sex scene of your ass cheeks, Bellyesque! We knew your low budget, first time excursion was going to be difficult, but you nailed it Cam’ron. Your are getting money, I dig!!! Go cop this joint and laugh your ass off for two plus hours, if you can make it.