At the end of the day Mountain Dew blue didn’t call for me to go to South by South West. That didn’t change my feeling for Mountain Dew blue either. I want to be with Mountain Dew blue. We have fun together. We like the same things like action figures, anime and Adult Swim.
I appreciate all the time that Mountain Dew and I have spent together, but I’m ready to move on with Mountain Dew blue now. I just hope Mountain Dew doesn’t call my phone when blue and I are together alone. That might get uncomfortable.
After leaving my worksite in lower Manhattan I decided to walk to my favorite DEWse spot in TriBeCa. The TriBeCa Grand Hotel is my shit for my shit. If you have ever been inside that piece then you already know. Imagine nestling down onto a lightly heated mother of pearl toilet seat. The countertops are all Italian granite from Pompeii. I feel like I can hear the people screaming when Mt. Vesuvius erupts.
The Def Jam office was parked in front of the hotel so I knew that something was about to pop off. Plus some of my Twitter family was gathered outside. I quizzically asked what was popping off and they told me that there was going to be a Rick Ross listening session inside the hotel’s lounge. As you can also imagine these events have open bars. The free swill tonight was Belvedere. Thank you Lord, you see your nigga so fucking well all day every day.
*This event has to a gift from my great-granddad HUGH C. O’LOUGHLIN. An emerald isle cab driver who married a beautiful lady from St. Kitts.*
I shouldn’t let this out into the open but I still almost didn’t get it. The bitches on list patrol were dead ass serious and they denied my boss from XXL entry on his initial attempt. Motherfuckers were shook as hell now. If CARL CHERY ain’t on the list then their asses certainly don’t have a chance. No one wanted to step up to the plate. I decided to step up because if I got rejected I could just slink off to the bathroom and leave a DEWse for the Def Jam partygoers. I gave the girl my name. DALLAS. DALLAS PENN.
Keep in mind that I was NOT invited to this event so there is no way in hell my name is going to be on this list. I don’t know these people. I don’t even like these people, and believe you me, they sure as hell don’t like me. Just as I suspected my name was not on the list. However, some dude named DALLAS GREEN was. Holy shit strange world! Is the former Mets skipper into Rick Ross’ music like that? The girl said to me “Dallas Green?” Y’all already know I said yes. The doors to heaven swung open and I never looked backwards.
Free Belvedere was going down like insanity and the first thing that came to my mind was the fact that there was no food. What kind of peanut butter and jelly shit is this? These organizers are lucky that I don’t just walk out of this bitch. I sure would have too if my homey PANAMA wasn’t in the building, along with LOWKEY and MARVELOUS MO.
*sidebar Internets*
Why that chick MARVELOUS be at all the obamas and she NEVER sends the kid any of the invites? EVAR! Let me find out MARVELOUS MO is on some secret society spaceship shit and she be holding out on the kid.
Next time I have an i.C. DVD for sale I am charging her ass double.
Anyhoo, I decided not to be double fisting up in this piece since it was on some intimate business shit. You have to know when you are at a party party and when you are at a politicking party. I talked my eyebrow shit to the broads, I made the fellas laugh out loud, I passed out a few biz cards, and I still might have had a half dozen rounds of Belvy + pineapple + cranberry. I really, really like Belvedere. I considered stealing a bottle from the bar too, but I again reminded myself what kind of event this was and my drunken focus remained raZr sharp.
Just then I felt a sweat bead run down the center of my back into my asscrack. Shit. I was clearly past my scheduled drop-off time of 6:35pm. My day job’s H.Q. has the bathrooms cleaned and mopped from 4:45pm until about 6:20pm. By that time everyone has already gone home. Well worth the wait since I get to leave a DEWse at the workplace in peace and quiet. Here it was 8:30pm and I was about to have an assquake. My bio-rhythms are extremely bourgeoise and they don’t like being taken offline. So I slipped out of the lounge to handle my B.I.
*T.M.I.F.Y.I. nutty log for the win*
When I exited the bathroom everyone had left the lounge for the adjoining small theatre space. It’s just a tiny little projection screening room with less than a hundred seats. I’ve been here several times before back when C.S. used to get all the invites to view Oscar nominated films during awards season. How do you think I knew about deluxe the bathroom? I sat next to my dude PANAMA and his publicist and the chick from RapRadar. Shouts to CASEY GANE-McCALLA whose drunk ass whooped and hollered in the screening room that “Rap Radar sucks!” It doesn’t suck as bad as he yelled it did.
When all the alcoholics simmered down Rick Ross was ushered into the theatre. He kicked it with us in his character voice which amused everyone and then he uttered his trademark tagline, “Bawssss”. Everyone loved it. They played a few songs from the new album using still shots of Ross interspersed through some of rap music’s most near and dear gangsta flicks. ‘King Of New York’, ‘Belly’, ‘Donnie Brasco’, ‘Usual Suspects’ and of course ‘Scarface’. The video editor did a yeoman’s job of synching up the movies with the music. Rick Ross should repackage this project as a concept album that is an homage to rap music’s favorite cinéma vérité.
*I should Twitter that. Done*
I did some DP2FTV cinéma vérité my damn self. Wanna watch it? Here it go…
After the session I went back out into the streets and found myself at another rap music event just one block away from the TriBeCa Grand Hotel. I didn’t get to this joint in time to enjoy the free alcohol but my folks like SPEC BOOGIE and CAUSE was in the building. CHE GRAND, VONPEA and DONWILL from TANYA MORGAN were drunk as fuck. I asked DON WILL about why he was avoiding sending me the .mp3 for the Love Song 4 Laura? It’s not like I can’t just rip it down from the web. DONWILL is my dude though and I will wait for him to finish the project that song is being placed on. Artists and content creators deserve that respect.
The best, best part of the night was catching MEKA from 2DopeBoyz twin sister spitting a hot sixteen on the subway ride home. All she needed was a blunt behind her ear and a 40oz. in her hand to make her super official. I already knew I was official. I had swag from both events stuffed in all of my pockets. Just like the ocean, my pockets are deep. Deeper than cRap music.
“Who said a rock band can’t play funk?” – (c)Parliament
I think it’s time to enjoy some of the funkiest blue eyed soul that I have on my hard drive. The homey F gave me the link to COREY HART’s (I Wear My) ‘Sunglasses At Night’ video and I just got open.
Wake up internets!
You are about to have this workweek in a headlock.
The TISHMAN-SPEYER corporation purchased the Stuyvesant Town – Peter Cooper Village from Metropolitan Life back in 2006. When the value of real estate tumbled because of the bubble being broken, their fortune took a direct punch in the mouth. It’s just deserts for them too. New York City is controlled by a tiny group of families that own the majority of the land we use.
One of the first “so called” improvements the TISHMAN-SPEYER developers started to do after their purchase was to plant trees all over the open lawn spaces. The longtime tenants and residents hated this change because it removed the sight lines from the interior courtyard that had existed previously. Didn’t we just have a discussion regarding the benefits of design when considering high rise developments?
The open lawn area at Stuy Town is perfect for picnics during the summer and other outdoor activities all year around. The reason that Stuy Town works as a high rise development modeled after Le CORBUSIER’s master architectural plans is because of the core values of the residents. Even during the KOCH Administration, New York City’s lowest period for economics and morality, the Stuyvesant Town – Peter Cooper Village remained a haven for its residents.
It wasn’t because Black folks weren’t allowed in either. It remained safe because poor people weren’t allowed in. Poor people are devalued and disenfranchised and this causes them to devalue the things they come into contact with. Poor people are disproportionately accosted by the police. This makes poor people angry and volatile. Poor people were barred from entering this community because of all the ways that they are marginalized and mistreated and the residents of Stuy Town didn’t want to live that way either.
Peep the aerial photo of Stuy Town. The buildings layout forms an almost castle like barricade from the rest of the city. The ills of the East Village didn’t penetrate Stuy Town.
It remains to be seen if the TISHMAN SPEYER family will be able to continue to manage this crucial property in Manhattan. The developers have been converting many of the buildings into dormitories because the kids that go to New York University generally have parents that can foot the bill for their children’s living expenses. You all know how kids treat dormitory rooms right? These buildings could look like shit within the decade. The economic downturn could force the developers to admit tenants into the housing complex that have serious economic challenges. Like Section 8 users. That is when Stuyvesant Town becomes Co-Op City.
Co-Op City is the world’s largest cooperative residential housing development. Co-Op City is 4x the size of Stuyvesant Town – Peter Cooper Village(see voided area in image below). Co-Op City fell the fuck off when they were forced to accept poor tenants into the development. The poor tenants mixed with those who had middle-class aspirations and they made the two groups unidentifiable. Now everyone that lives in Co-Op City is considered working class (read: poor). The economy is about to make all of working class. When that happens there won’t be any residential development that will be safe.
Has the Vh-1 Storytellers special with KanYe West premiered already and because I don’t have television service I missed it?
Anyhoo, here is a clip from that program featuring ‘Ye Tudda performing the joint that Wang guests on.
If you didn’t fuck with ‘808s & Heartbreak’ because you thought it would make your dick shrink or whatever bullshit that the internets had convinced you cowards would happen then you lost.
It’s a masterful album which lets you vent your frustrations without hurting anyone in particular. KanYe already did all the crying for you. All you have to do is listen.
What if ‘808s & Heartbreak’ was the best Hip-Hop album of 2009?
I still need to hear that new DOOM joint, but until then KanYe got this off.
