Archive for the ‘BeYONCE’s Hair’ Category

From Bada Bing To The Gaza Strip…

Wednesday, December 16th, 2009

gaza

Editor’s note: This drop comes to us courtesy of Slumbilical Chord of Nah’Right.com comments thread fame. You should already know that the Nah’Right comments section is nothing to fux with. In ten years these folks will be running the Earth. Pray for all of us.

Sup Dallas,

I have a business proposition for you. We should open a really raunchy strip club. Given that America has colonized the Middle East virtually in its entirety (Iraq and Afghanistan – Iran next and maybe other states), it’s only right that we do an ethnographic performance art tribute to our fellow statesmen. The strip club would require all women to wear belly-dancer harem attire — veils, nose rings, etc. All broads 9s and up (natch) – the types of broads that would inspire one with the desire to smell behind their ears… by using ones tongue.

But the atmosphere inside would be mad abrasive. Bouncers would be wearing Israeli military attire, and some of the bouncers would be broads, in line with Israel’s policy of having women in the military. The inside would be falling apart – walls cracking, ceiling beams leaning… Like the whole shit would collapse if you sneeze on it. VIP rooms would be mad grimy. Just like the finest Atlantic City spots, there would be no stripping in the back rooms. Just pure flesh on flesh fornicating.

Finally, the club’s name: Gaza Strip. The only question left is… Do you smell me? I’ve copied my ba’y bro N8 to get his thoughts as well. We could go three ways on the investment… [ll].

Warmest Regards (c) KAWS,
Slumbeezy

Dallas: Uh, no. I’m not sure exactly who knocked down the Towers, but I know for sure that shit would get blowed the fux up when they found out Osama’s niece was giving up the ThunderDome in the Champagne Room.

gaza strip

KEVIN POWELL COAT DRIVE = G.O.A.T.

Thursday, December 10th, 2009

kevin powell

I would never suggest that you wear shoes and nicely ironed ‘slacks’ to a party, but this event right here is the G.O.A.T. one night event. It’s as if Target and DSW and PathMark AND Victoria Secret’s got together to throw a party. It’s a delicious estrogen overload.

It is the only party filled to the gills with working ladies. For some of whom this may be their last time giving a man some action. If you single fellas play your cards right you will also bag up a shorty with the mean connect to a New Year’s Eve jumpoff.

Don’t go here to rack up digits tho’. Go here to hunt down a piece of trophy poon for your holiday mantle. Avoid ThunderDome if possible.

Friday, December 11, 2009 @ 10:00pm
TRIBECA CINEMAS
54 Varick Street (@ Laight St.)
New York, NY
$ = FREE

Fux Yo’ Jesus Piece!

Saturday, December 5th, 2009

vulva

The hottest piee of jewelry this holiday season isn’t going to be the Good Wood Jesus piece, but rather a piece that you might could want to put some good wood to. These hand-sculpted vulva pendants are what is really good if you ask me.

I swear that if you squint your eyes they look like Virgin Mary charm pieces.

vm

What better way to say to the world that you love yourself some tender slot than by rocking one around your neck? Yeah, I can imagine that you would have to be really progressive and self confident to put it on but just think about it in this way… None of us know where we will be going when we leave this place, but we all know from the place which we arrived and isn’t it like heaven everytime we get to go back there?

Not your mom’s vulva, but some other lady’s joint natch

Get your vulva pendants and other ‘I <3 Pussy’ celebrating accessories here

vulva

ThunderDome >>> SuperHead…

Friday, December 4th, 2009

thunderdome

^ Not THE ThunderDome, but something like her.

I posted some updates on TWitter awhile back that rap music needed another superstar video vixen and why hadn’t some young, ready and able starlet adopted the nickname ‘ThunderDome’? Since SuperHead is off writing books now or what have you. It made me recall the story of a chick who rocked my world so hardbody I had to decline getting BJs from her lest she convert me into the Black Adam Lambert. For the sake of this drop we shall call her ThunderDome.

I met ThunderDome at the City-As-School academy in lower Manhattan. City-As-School was an alternative high school for the kids who weren’t able to go to normal high schools for a variety of reasons. I could say that we were all hopped up on the drug NYC and once you got the Big Apple’s horse in your veins you would nod off in a normal school setting. Most days you sat in a semi-circle for a few periods and talked about the things you got into around the city. I was assigned a jobsite location where I would work and receive class credit for that. I was placed into the showroom of a fabric dealer who supplied high end furniture manufacturers with upholstery covering. That shit made no gotdamn sense to me until I started working for the rabbi and I saw how he would source those materials for his clients.

ThunderDome was in my class and she was as fine as hell. She was built like a Amazon brick shithouse and she was only 16yrs old. I used to make her laugh along with the rest of the class because that was my true occupation – class clown. George Carlin does a bit about being a class clown and he describes my pathos to a tee. ThunderDome and I were cool but we didn’t connect past our classroom. I was into my shit primarily which consisted of running around the city stealing anything that wasn’t nailed down. ThunderDome was into her own lifestyle as well. I got a kiss from her on the lips when the school year ended but I didn’t have any way of acting on that gesture and truth be told is that I was still a virgin. I didn’t see ThunderDome again for several years and I never forgot her kiss. Come to find out that I had left my thumbprint on her heart also.

I want to say the year is 1990 or 1991 but I will need one of my NBA gurus to nail down the year that Jayson Williams graduated from St.John’s and was drafted by Phoenix. Williams was having a draft party at this forgotten nightspot called MK. It was a beautifully ornate bank building that was retrofitted into the swankiest of swank nightclubs. As you can imagine the bar was wide open. I have been going to obamas since the late 1980s and Michael St.Michael was the queen of the doormen. I prA’li dapped Jayson Williams. I know I gave a big hug to my nig McNasty Conrad McRae. He and Jayson were tight. It was like a Riverside Hawks Gauchos reunion up in that piece and the ladies in the building were on that same level.

There are different grades of ladies that follow the ballers just like there are stratified levels of players. Some ladies are like that dude that was nice but he never made it off the ‘hood park courts. Then there were the ladies that were like the college star who didn’t get the call up to the bigtime. These ladies are the chicks who got too hot, too fast. Their stars burned out quickly. Then there was the groupie that was a pro level thoroughbred. She had the thighs, calves and proportions that screamed first round pick. That was your girl ThunderDome. Wouldn’t you know that she spotted me up in the party and asked me what I was doing there? I let her know I was still getting around the city. Actually, I was selling cocaine in the clubs but that isn’t the kind of detail you volunteer.

When I tell you that ThunderDome was a fine woman… I’ve been fortunate in my travels to have known some badass chicks but this woman is the GOAT, mainly because she stood like a goat. Stacked to the max is what the OGs would say to describe her. If there was one thing I was good at it would be to play that role and I was on some stunting shit this night. You would laugh at how I can act like the fool who bought out the bar. I held her ears hostage for the rest of the party telling jokes and talking drunkard shit. I told ThunderDome she was coming home with me. She gave me that look like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I thought I did, but I was wrong. ThunderDome was about to put my shoes on a spaceship. We left MK and took a cab to Queens. I was in the cab making out with her trying to put my tongue on her lips. This is when ThunderDome stuck her tongue in my mouth and down my throat. Her tongue penetrated the holes in my gums where my recently extracted wisdom teeth used to sit.

If I had any wisdom I would have just payed for her cabfare to the Bronx but I had wanted to taste this woman from since I was 16 and I wasn’t about to let this chance slip through my fingers. My second floor flat was empty for the night. My roommate Polotron was off somewhere on his shit so that meant we could romp through the whole apartment. We got into it the second we entered the flat. ThunderDome was equipped with some of my favorite fetishes at the time. She had these big dinner plate areolas and her nipples looked like penciltip erasers. ThunderDome was the first chick I ever saw shaved completely on her snatch. It totally resembled a peach down there. I had my face all the way in too. My mission was to wear her labia like a ski cap and use the lips to tie around my jaw like a chinstrap. My tongue was a wandering that night and I was hungry like the wolf.

Now with all of our kissing, sucking and rassling I somehow ended up on my back. ThunderDome did some coy shit like nibbled on my flank and stuck her tongue in my bellybutton. But when she brought her face onto my manhood that is when she started to change my world. She got at me like you see it go down in the pr0n flicks. This never ever happened to me before. Yes I’ve had my dick sucked you clowns. No I never had anyone toungue kiss my taint. I don’t even know what that shit is but ThunderDome knows what the fux it is and how it works. The rest of this drop is gonna be some of the realest shit I ever wrote on this page. ThunderDome grabbed my asscheeks and spread them open then she put her tongue in my dootchute. That shit made me make some kind of crazy noise like a dinosaur wearing a helicopter backpack. Its hard to describe suffice to say I was being freaked out.

ThunderDome had to be exhilarated by my yelling because she went into my butt even more with her tongue. That shit was crazy. First figuratively, then literally. This wild broad stimulated my prostate so mean that I had an involuntary deuce come down. It wasn’t a full log but it was a turtlehead. The illest part is that she kept on sucking my dick. Oh my fuxing God. This woman is crazy, and I am loving it. I got up off the bad and pulled off the sheet. I wiped my ass with the bedsheet and then I climbed on top of ThunderDome and proceeded to gorilla dagger her pussy. I can’t front to y’all either when I tell you that I kissed her in the mouth. Yes, the inside part of her filthy, nasty, dirty, beautiful, gorgeous mouth.

When I got up off her to climax she nearly tackled me just to receive in her mouth. Oh my fuxin’ God. ThunderDome was righteously nasty and freaked out I just had to stare at her for what must have been an hour. I wasn’t appalled in as much as I was aghast. I just had some real live pr0n movie shit happen to me in real life. You couldn’t tell me I wasn’t that dude right then. Forget whoever got this treatment from her before me because when you think about that shit later on you might could realize I wasn’t her first assmunch. I came to understand later that ThunderDome was a busy woman. She saw me playing that role of a go-getter and that is why she tried me out.

When I woke up the next morning to go to work for the rabbi ThunderDome had already left. The only proof that I hadn’t been having a freaky drunken dream was the shitty sheet on the bedroom floor. I had a hundred dollars and some loose grams in my jeans pocket from the previous night. I could have sworn I had more money than that when I realized that a little yard was a small price to pay for the experience that I had. For the rest of the summer I saw ThunderDome at various club and industry parties and if I had some trap on me that I didn’t mind blowing (puns always intended here at DP.com) I would spend it on her. I never let her eat my ass again tho’. That shit was too fuxin’ good. You don’t want to get accustomed to that shit tho’. I’m sure many a motherfuxer has been turned out by ThunderDome. I knew well enough to stay in my lane this time so at least I wouldn’t have to throw away any more sheets.

Kings Lose Crowns…

Wednesday, November 18th, 2009

Fisty Cent

50 Cent Claims King of New York, Says Jay-Z’s “Beyoncé’s Husband”

I haven’t enjoyed Fifty’s music as much as I enjoy his spectacle. No one has the same drive for controversy that Fifty has where you see them actively seeking out confrontation like he does. Fifty is also engaging and charismatic too. I would like to see what his day entails on a regular basis. He has all of these mini-empires to attend to while making records. I imagine Fifty Cent to be a more hands-on mogul than Jay-Z is. Fifty seems like the guy that wants to personally hand the checks off to his subordinates so he can look them directly in their eyes and gauge their loyalty. Don’t forget how Fifty creamed on Young Buck when he learned that Buck was being disrespectful towards Fifty on some downlow squirrelspeak shit.

A few weeks ago Jay-Z threw a salvo over Fifty’s bow when he said that “No one is scared of Fifty Cent.”. That was clearly a shot at Fifty’s remarks re: KanYe’s VMA interruption. This rap shit has become a queer, melodramatic soap opera where the raptors have a generic Pavlovian response whenever someone mentions their name.

Fifty’s claim that he is the king of New York doesn’t even take into consideration the real king, NYC mayor Michael Bloomberg, shut down Fifty this summer for his planned and overhyped ’40 projects homecoming’. Didn’t Fifty grow up in a house with his grandmother? Fifty was never a dude to let the truth ruin the hype. Bullet fragments become nine shots and grandma’s house becomes a New York City public housing development. What happens tho’ when all of this hype exceeds the artistic output? Andy Warhol turns into Marc Kostabi.

Instead of vying for the kingdom Fifty needs to regain his street authority with another position, say Chancellor, Commissioner or Comptroller. In the rap game, kings lose crowns.