I’m having fun with maps today. As I perused a map of the so-called Middle East I noticed that my favorite country for exotic women things, Eritrea, was actually chopped away to make for a country called Djibouti.
Shit like this happens when you need to have a staging area to regulate the traffic from the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden.
But then I wondered to myself what the women from this privileged province might look like. The Eritreans always looked like well fed Ethiopians. So maybe the Djiboutis would look like Somalis, but not as crazy-eyed or down for piracy.
The Djiboutis looked better than I expected. I should have known better though. They do have the word ‘booty’ in their namesake. From Berbera to Brooklyn, it’s all about Djibouti chicks for the win this summer.
Look at that real estate in between Iraq and Afghanistan and tell yourself you don’t want to own that land to open up McDonald’s and Wal-Marts?
But mostly to control the energy that those people use on the daily. If they have to check with you before they can turn on their lightswitch then you are totally the boss.
Letting people control their resources and their energy is allowing them to control their destiny.
Rest in piece to Iz The Wiz. I never met this man but he was definitely one of the greatest bombers in the history of graff, My earliest memories of watching his throwups were on the old 6 trains that stretched from Pelham Bay Park down to Chambers Street.
When I was younger I spent summers with my grandmother in Co-Op City. My dad would be working O.T. and my mom was busy finishing up her undergrad work. I’m sure I wasn’t more than 8 yrs old at the time and I can distinctly remember seeing the throwups emblazoned on the outside of trains. As an eight year old all that colorful shit makes you think the subways are a magical, circus-like place.
As a teenager who copped his fair share of tags on the inside and outside of subway cars I found it strange to still see Iz The Wiz throwups on the outsides of the ancient G trains that I took to get to Brooklyn Tech high school. Who was this dude, along with NE a/k/a MIN ONE and QUIK that had kept on getting up in the system even though now it was hard as hell and if you were caught you had the book thrown at you?
Years and years of aerosol art has finally placed Iz The Wiz’ soul in the air. Do something silently defiant and slightly illegal for Iz The Wiz this weekend. He definitely would have done the same for you.
There was a lot less coverage of the passing of Boostin’ Billy. As a matter of fact there was no internets coverage as far as I’m concerned. I got a message from one of the 2nd Gen Decepts that Boostin’ Billy, a co-founder of the Lo-Lifes had passed away. I haven’t had the chance to confirm or deny this story from the Lo-Lifes perspective but as soon as I do I will let y’all know the deal.
I did not know Boostin’ Billy personally but his name does ring bells. I’m sure he was one of the many young men that I encountered on the Deuce back in its Black youth heyday and the latter years of the Latin Quarters. To this day I still wear my Polo I.T.’s more out of respect for all the brothers that passed away to obtain and maintain this level of fresh. This is my lifestyle for life.
It was a wild thing to see my dad pass away a few years ago. He was such a lion I expected him to live forever. So it goes for all giants and lions and great influencers. Our time here is ridiculous and short. Respect to all of those that have left their indelible mark on our minds and in our hearts. These people are the fathers to our style.
This saga started with some of the Go In Brothers. Ruffian, Sandman and the kid Jackpot. We linked at a non-descrip bar on Grand Street in SoHo for the pre-game.
I started off with Belvedere and tonic because I don’t play that shit.
The event later this night was some shit put on by Dos Equis which has the illest commercials in the game right now.
At the spot the Go In Brothers were caught up in the flashing lights of the whole scene. I lost contact with them early as I finessed my way up to the roof deck level of the party. They had a swimming pool in the lower level of the building and I even considered going swimming, but then I realized that if a Puerto Rican and a Chinaman were both in the pool along with me I would end up with an ear infection [ll].
So I passed on swimming with the Dos Equis girls for hanging out with my two fists of Stoli and grenadine on ice (compliments of Dos Equis, but of course). Fools were getting tipped over at this party. There were easily several thousand people in the entire building. Many were there for the DJ sets of Bobbito and ?uestlove but most looked to be ad agency runoff cornballs. There were some dames though. Just hard to quantify with all the lames (myself included).
^ Yes, I have not removed my ‘Media’ pass since Roots picnic FTMFW!
^ I have no idea what performance art these chicks were up to, but whatever it was shouts to Dos Equis for the almost nip slip (yes Janet Jackson).
^ LeBron might could need to start drinking Dos Equis like this dude.
^ Dame.
^ Lame. Major PU~ when your night ends in handcuffs, police handcuffs.
On to the next spot which would be club Sutra on 1st and 1st. My homie from forever GudTyme was hosting along with DJ Rob Swift. GudTyme is the dude who gave me my early taste of showbiz back when he used to tour with the X-Ecutioners. One time at a Lil’ X video shoot I made the cardinal mistake of any entourage member by hitting up the craft services before the talent. I haven’t been invited on a music video set since.
*Sidebar: I left the craft services alone at the Roots Jam Session even though the honey turkey slices and Swiss cheese was caaaaaaaaaallin’ me.*
So back to the matter at hand which was to keep getting my shit fucked the fuck up. Gudtyme and Swift laced me with drink tickets. I felt myself having a hard time pushing back the fourth K-1 and tonic. I was waterlogged at this poiint and I had to drive home to Freeport. Good for me that once I left Manhattan the rest of my flight home was via highways.
Call 2 Earl? NEVA!
Here’s some more pics of the DP nightlife shenanigans…
^ PU~ to having your eyebrows in shape, but your mustache hair on 1,000. Shorty on the right is definitely the nuttgoblin because she looks like she’s heavy into nutt gobbling. BTW, it was her birthday.
^ RobSwift what up?!? Let me get that drink ticket fam.
^ Drunk and hot girls.
^ K-1 and tonic because I am so smooth, smooth, smoooooooth.
It finally happened for me internets. The skies opened up and I was granted backstage access to the Roots Jam Session at the Highline Ballroom. It was the moment that I had been waiting for. To witness the greatest living band, yes I said it, Fuck Yo’ Metallica!, as they prepared for their weekly show.
It was exactly as I had imagined it would be. Contemplative. Intense. Familial. And more crowded than a muvv up in that muvv. I tried to be a fly on the wall, albeit, a 375lb. fly on the wall. It didn’t work totally, but I think I finally crossed over to the other side. We’ll see what happens next week when I try to win again.
The Roots Jam Session is actually better than the baby wipes revolution. Because it is completely unpredictable. I always leave the Jam Session feeling like I peeled back another layer of the Roots artistry. You already know that ?uestlove is the sorcerer that keeps the groove in line just like Black Thought knows everyones rhymes. Speaking of lines, Styles P forget HIS own lines on the track ‘Rising Down’ but Black Thought spit his rhymes for him while Styles became his hype man.
Bilal returned to the Jam Session as well as Tanya Morgan but the guest that impressed the most on me was this young lady who rocked the bass for a funky little set. The Roots Jam Session is one of the few if not only places you can go to see women musicians who aren’t just singers. The Jam Session is possibly the most hip-hop shit going on since the late 1970’s. Before graffiti and rap music moved into the galleries and discos downtown. Well, ironically the Highline Ballroom IS downtown and not in the Bronx.
Don’t tell me that you want to go to the Jam but you can’t buy tickets online. Chocolate Snowflake just purchased our tickets for the July 14th show and my homey from the DMV will be coming uptop for the July 21st set. This is the best $10 you are going to spend anywhere in New York City. The good news is that I see they have extended their run into November. You have no excuse for not fuxing with the legendary. You already know I will be there.
