The Michael versus Prince debate rages on!

What's really good, good people?  This morning, I decided to drive to work.  My commute is usually about an hour in length and I decided that the soundtrack for my ride would be none other than Prince's PURPLE RAIN.  In my slighty slanted eyes, that is the BEST album of all time.  There is always some debate about great albums and great artists. One such debate pits Prince's music against that of his contemporary, Michael (or as I've come to know him, Latoya) Jackson.  They frequently have Prince versus Michael Jackson parties.  Both men are musical geniuses (would the plural be geniusi?) and their two albums, PURPLE RAIN and THRILLER, respectively, are the TWO BEST ALBUMS of the '80's and possibly all time. But this post is not about Michael versus Prince in that regard; I wonder if these two men came to blows, no pun intended (and maybe I should rephrase that given the two subjects in question), if these two men had fisticuffs, who do you think would win?  That question itself is a veritable quandry!!!!! In a fight between MJ and Prince who would you side with, who would you ride with? The Gloved One or the Purple Prince?  Lets look at the tale of the tape:

  Michael                  Prince

age:                 50                               50

height:            5' 10"                          5' 2" (without his 6-inch heels)

weight:           emaciated                  100 lbs (with 1,000 quarters in each pocket)

I know some of you think that because Mike be on that Peter Pan sh*t that Prince would get in that arse quick fast in a hurry.  I could see Prince running up on Mike and drop kicking the royal purple sh*t out of him with those heels. "Michael, EYE know U think U can beat me to the break of dawn, but EYE keep a shank in my raspberry beret for bitch-asses like you. Dearly beloved, say goodbye to that thing called life!"

And for some reason, I keep seeing Mike employing that little girl, windmill technique; you know that one where you just flail your arms forward in a circular motion with your head down, not really paying attention to what you are doing, but just hoping that you'd connect and injure the person.  But I really believe it could go both ways with Mike (again, no pun intended).  I think he has bad memories of Joe beating that arse, Tito & Jermaine beating that arse, Janet, Rebe & Latoya picking on him, and MC Hammer calling him out and challenging him. I think that it would be a distinct possibility of him letting out all that pent up frustration on a worthy adversary.  "Prince, I'm gonna moonwalk all over your bitch-ass!  Tee hee! Woo! Chummon!".

 yeah, I said it, and I'm gone.

In Today's Headlines....7/29/08

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080728/ap_on_fe_st/odd_canada_large_family&printer=1;_ylt=AiQRv3IHLuL_xG_2d_mw0d8uQE4F

I randomly surf the web now and again and I came across this little tidbit of news this morning. A woman in Canada recently gave birth to her 18th child...scratch that...a 44-year old woman gave birth to her 18th child. Her guts are RAW and her ovaries are going to fall out one day soon.....just SPLAT (a la the old Batman tv show sound effects) ...on the floor, from overuse. Her fallopian tubes are going to make a run for the Mexican border, disguised as Mexican nationals complete with big mustaches and sombreros.

WHAT THE FUGG yo ? She is 44 with 18 kids in the ano domini 2008. It's not 1908 (shout to all them AKA's). It's not even 1928; it's 2008 and she is 44 with 18 kids. Do they know that we are in the midst of a global financial crisis? Well, maybe it isnt as fugged-up UP NORTH as it is here down-bottom. I wonder how much money they spend on Frosted Flakes and milk. The family either has their own cow, in which case, purchasing milk is not an issue, OR, they use mom's breast milk being that she has been lactating for the past 25 years continuously. And they probably by the off-brand breakfast cereal; not Frosted Flakes, rather Glazed Gobs of Corn Chunks or some shite. But, who am I to judge?

Anywho, once again, I am gone....

You ARE what you eat

Why would ANYONE in their right mind eat any, and I do mean ANY, type of food prepared or sold by someone named "DINTY MOORE" ?? The name alone sounds like an acronym for a bowel movement or an ungodly sex act!!! In the throws of passion, I can hear someone (more than likely myself) saying, "C'mon baby...let me give you just one DINTY MOORE! I promise it wont hurt!".

And you think those little brown things are chunks of beef? Hmph! No thanks, I'll pass. I just lost my appetite.

ROCK & Roll...

With all that is going on in the world, and specifically the Middle East, why do reporters and "peace workers" continue to go over there?? Recently, a WHITE AMERICAN woman was kidnapped and her captors released videos that stated if some female Iraqi prisoners werent released, then they would kill her. WHY do y'all (and my y'all is speaking to specific people, okay, you twisted my arm, I'll say it....Y'ALL CRAZY ARSE WHITE FOLK) want to go over there? Them muh fuggin Middle Easterners aint NEVER SCARED. Dont you see them on t.v.? Their opposition could have guns, a grenade launcher, tanks, and air support and them MUH fuggas be throwing ROCKS back. ROCKS, b!! Mutha fuggin STONES and PEBBLES and sh*t! Those some rock throwin muh fuggas! And suprisingly, they are quite accurate with them rocks! Not to make light of the situation, but I digress.

One hundred plus one more.....and I'm gone!

RULES to this here GAME

**Disclaimer - Some of this post will be written phonetically in Ebonics, thus, you may need to refer to the lastest Ebonic dictionary, or the nearest homeboy.**

I been in this game for years
it made me an animal,
there's rules to this shit
I wrote me a manual
a step-by-step booklet for you to get
your game on track, not your wig pushed back -Notorious B.I.G., The 10 Crack Commandments

Back in the days, my mans an nem Chef, passed on to me the rules of the game. To this very day, I abide by these rules as they govern my day to day operations. The rules are as follows:

1. NEVER, EVER spit in the wind.
2. NEVER, EVER tug on Superman's cape
3. NEVER, EVER.....(okay dis one right here shall remain unwritten as it is passed along in oral tradition)

Fast forward to today; my boss asked me to call our service center to clarify a matter of information. I had the utter displeasure of speaking to some old, rude, crusty hag bag, who, if I could have reached through the phone, would have drawn back a nub. See conversation below:

me: Good afternoon, my name is O.G. Bobby Johnson (DEUCE fool, break yo self!) and I'm calling because XYZ blah blah blah as per my boss, the HBIC.

old bag: well, you waited long enough! if you would have called sooner XYZ blah blah blah

me: wait, I don't know what your problem is, but I'll bet it's hard to pronounce!

old bag: anyway, is your site open for summer school?

me: yes, i am here everyday.

old bag: that is NOT what I asked you. Is the site open for summer school?

See folks, this is where I had to think about my livelihood instead of being a lively hood. Because I am the streets. That b*tch dont know me son, thats my muh fuggin word. But a dude need steady income coming in so I had to refrain from going to her office and hastily thrashing her about the face, specifically the eyeballs, and throat. This woman was OBVIOUSLY not taught the rules to this here game because she was tuggin at muh fuggin Superman's cape. Dont let the muh fuggin corporate casual summer wear fool you people; I will get in that arse like a GORILLA in a phone booth. Even Clark Kent changed in a phone booth because he didnt want his nuts hanging out his jockeys in public, like his gonads were at a picnic. Don't let the everyday attire fool you. SHEEEIT! It's common decency people; let's learn to live and respect each other because WE ARE THE WORLD, WE ARE the children.

Man, NEVER, EVER tug at Superman's cape, EVER! And tell em O.G. da O.G told ya so! And once again, Me voy! Hasta la pasta......with the red, the black, and the green, with a key in the ignition, SISSIES!

Halitosis - The Devil's Gas

I hope this reaches you in the best of health, spirits and breath. There aint nothing (yes double negatives from an English major) worse than bad breath. Actually, there is - that BEST friend or acquaintance that has halitosis. We all have em...a very good friend whose breath smells like a sick emu shat in their mouth (and being that I know that most of you are wondering what the hell an EMU is, I've included a picture). Morning, noon and night - it's like their breath is so bad you can actually see it, during the day, when the sun is shining, or at night, like Los Angeles smog. And for some reason, they ALWAYS want to talk to you in CLOSE proximity to your face. Now I understand why some people's eyelashes are so short; I used to think it was some gross deformity or some auto-immune disease. Now I know. One of my co-workers, love him like a fresh vegetable, but I'll be damned if I dont want him to get silicone cheek implants filled with industrial strenght Listerine and Clorox. He should pay a midget to mop his tongue every 15 minutes. Woooooo.....brush your breath with Dentyne muh fugga! Anyway, let me stop the madness. Continue on people. Love life.

and I'm gone......

A Hero aint nuffin but a sammich....

Good morning folks. It has been a couple of days but my creative genius comes in spurts (**note to self: do not add vulgar joke**). This morning, as I got my son ready for school, I actually stopped what I was doing to watch what he was watching on television. I caught the tail end of "The Amazing SpiderMan" cartoon, (*again refrain from vulgarity*), and the beginning of "Superman". While watching Superman, I had a profound thought; something that NEVER occurred to me before. Superman's powers are attributed to his home planet, Krypton, and conversely, his weakness is Kryptonite, a by-product of his planet. But in casual wear or his superhero costume, Superman still has these SUPER powers. So my question is, WHY IN THE HELL DOES SUPERMAN NEED A CAPE?? Is his cape a fashion accessory and if so, my next question is does Superman like to play with other supermen or village people? Was Superman jealous of the late James Brown? As some of you may or may not know, James Brown was the FIRST Black superhero. See, most of us know him by his government name, but when he donned THAT cape, he was SOUL BROTHER NUMBER ONE. He could slide across the floor faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a midnight train to Georgia, and could make you move uncontrollably to the beat with his unintelligble superhero style of speech. Yes, James Brown was a superhero, the first Black superhero. Say it loud, I'm Black and I'm proud cuz Papa dont take no mess.

Profound thought, I know......and I'm gone.

In da Club

Greetings I bring, to all raggamuffin, or, most raggamuffin, or maybe just to those of you who read this blog. Now, this particular post is about "da club". Both Usher and 50 Cent have made songs about da club. Hell, every half-a-rapper talks about the club; poppin bottles in da club, rub-a-dub-dub in da club, draw back a nub in da club. I sometimes go to the club to two step, but that is rare. Usually, I go to bug out, chill and laugh at the other patrons there; you know the guy with the tight muscle shirt that's baggy, or the girl with the ever so fly PAY-HALF outfit that STILL has the tags on it (it's going back tomorrow). And what is it about some clubs that bring out such misfits...like there was an invite sent out for a carnival sideshow party and you didnt get it, YET, you showed up. Why oh why have I been caught out there at da club, amongst the misfits including a gaggle of 23 women whose combined weight was 7 metric tons, a dude with coke bottle glasses, a gold tooth and red supsenders, a dude with the bionic throat (you know the machine you have to use when you've lost your ability to speak, and not the T-Pain machinenery) trying to HOLLA at every woman who passes, and the woman whose braids look fresh but stink like Tuesday nights garbage, like she hadnt washed her hair since February 30th.

Now, I dont want to sound biased or ignorant in asking this question, but it does baffle me on occasion, AND, I really want to solicit an honest opinion/answer. I may be going to hell with a gasoline catsuit on (gasoline drawers would just be too easy, a gasoline catsuit is HELL), but does ANYONE else WONDER why someone in a wheelchair is in the club? I'm sorry, I had to put it out there. And I dont just mean someone in a wheelchair, I mean someone in a wheelchair who is being PUSHED around. I mean, I dont want to preclude them from having fun or doing what anyone else would do, but are they there to dance, and if so, how do you dance in a wheelchair? Is your "pusher" your dance partner being that they have to choreograph your moves? I am really asking here.

Ok, i think I see brimstone. I'm done, and you guessed it, I'm gone........

These are the......GOOD TIMES!

Peace.

I recently went digging through my CD collection and came across a CD I used to bang back in the day. Interestingly enough, the CD had a skit on it about the TV show "Good Times", and the artist(s) mused, "What in thee fugg was so GOOD about GOOD TIMES?"

Really, what was so GOOD about Good Times? The lived in the projects, they were broke, James died, Michael was gay, Penny was getting scorched on the regular....I'm saying....did i miss the GOOD TIME?

and I'm gone.....

In the News........

Good afternoon (or morning or night) good people. It is a lovely day in NYC. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping (and shitting on some poor unsuspecting fool's car) and God woke me up, after a very strange dream, for another day. Today's post is about newsworthy events, or rather, events that have been in the news lately, because God only knows, all that bull dung that is on TV or in print aint newsworthy.

I will bullet the items I choose to discuss then expound on them in numerical sequence that corresponds to the bulleted order, ok? And for you short bus bastards I will also color code them.

• Richard "Dick" Grasso, former chairman and chief executive of the New York Stock Exchange from 1995-2003, and the verdict that allows him to keep his $187.5 million dollar severance package
• A woman (somewhere in the US) passed away after drinking torch oil she mistook for apple juice
• The Shaq Rap

1. Ok, first of all how did Dick Dandy come to head the New York Stock exchange? I've read varying stories that have him as a high school dropout and/or having gone to college for 2 years. So you're telling me that I busted my arse in undergraduate and graduate school to get a job that pays $.28 cents above minimum wage, that when i retire, I will have to supplement my income selling bootleg Newport cigarettes on 125th street in Harlem? As Don King would say, "ONLY IN AMERICA!" Ok, the background is that his severance & retirement package from NYSE was $187.5 mil, approved by the compensation chair of NYSE, who happened to be the CEO of Home Depot, where Grass sat on the board of directors. Former NYS Attorney General/Client No. 9 Elliot Spitzer sued because he smelled something fishy and it wasnt his fingers (or maybe it was). First court ruled in favor or Grasso, second in favor of NYS, this court upheld the first decision. So families in NYC go on starving, homeless and such and the NYSE hands this bastard $200 mil....NICE!
2. It is indeed a tragedy and I send my condolences to her family and friends, BUT, how do you mistake torch oil for apple juice? True, they are similar in color but didnt it taste a tad bit funny?
3. Kobe, tell me how my ass tastes! LMAO......I cant even finish writing....that shit is hilarious.

and I'm gone...