Bacon FTW!
These Air Max 90 Current Huarache hybrids are on sale at Transit stores for $40.
The infamous Dave’s Quality Meats ‘Bacon’ colorway won’t give you high cholesterol either.
“I’m gaw’n in.”
Archive for January, 2010
SNEAKER FIENDS UNITE!
Friday, January 22nd, 2010Got Asian?
Friday, January 22nd, 2010
DP goes in @ iHipHop.com to talk about the most influential face of Hip-Hop culture today.
Video Games >>> NBA Games…
Friday, January 22nd, 2010
Everyone is all pissy that Allen Iverson was voted to the starting squad of the 2010 NBA All-Star game but it could have been worse…
Tracy McGrady almost beat out Steve Nash for a Western Conference starting spot. I don’t even think Tracy McGrady has started a game this season. So who are the fans voting into the All-Star game? The fans are voting on the EA Sports avatars of these professional players.
McGrady never has a bad back on the Xbox360.
FrankenBerry Is The G.O.A.T. Breakfast Cereal…
Thursday, January 21st, 2010
Editor’s note: The OG drop was quiet classic. Now we’ve added more Vitamans with the IC videos.
Ever since Passion of the Weiss and Straight Bangin’ put together their G.O.A.T. Hip-Hop albums list I been straight up list crazy. Okay that’s not true because I have always been list crazy and today’s crazy list is for all the breakfast cereals that are so good, because they are so loaded with sugar that if I ate a salad bowl of one of these joints now I would go into a diabetic coma. Youth might be wasted on the young, but breakfast cereal and Saturday morning cartoons at my great-grandmother’s house are my earliest thoughts of heaven.
I don’t care what any of you say. FrankenBerry is that CRACK! Count Chocula and BooBerry were aight, but FrankenBerry was the fuckin’ truth. Just peep how Frank is on the front of the box beasting out over a bowl. Niggas eyes is at half mast from all that purple. Them joints would stay at just the right crunch in milk too. If I ran one of these fuckin’ industrial companies that made weapons in one division and breakfast cereal in another I would make kiddie cereal for adults. Reduce the sugar by adding real fruit or some shit. I don’t know how they do it and I don’t need to know. I’m the idea man and my ideas flow way better with a big ass bowl of FrankenBerry.
Most of y’all younger cats is too green to remember King Vitaman but this joint was another one of them Saturday morning treats that my great-grandmother used to lace me with. I used to be jumping all over her crib and climbing the walls like my ass was a gotdamned monkey.
Fuck what you heard! Lucky Charms was gooder than a muvv up in that muvv. Lucky Charms was that shit to make your milk change colors too because it was sprayed with so much powdered sugar. To this day I could eat like two of them little five dollar boxes in a weekend (Sat-Sun). And why does cereal cost so damn much now?
That’s exactly what these joints were… Smack. Sugarized puffs of rice and a fuckin’ Puerto Rican coqui frog who dresses like a horse junkie. Shit tasted good though. Word is bond.
Frosted Wheaties were the shit because regular Wheaties were fucking boring and them shits would sogg out in two seconds. It was like eating wet cardboard. When the T.I.’s put that sugar on the Wheaties them shits became sweetened mushy cardboard. Deee lish.
When I got a little older I started to feel a kind of way about going to the supermercado and buying kiddie cereal so I butched up my style with the Frosted Mini Wheats. One time I made the mistake of filling my bowl with these joints. I damn near cracked my jawbone trying to eat all these joints. The real plus was that I took a rope of a shit.
Streetlife In Real Life…
Thursday, January 21st, 2010
Crusaders featuring Randy Crawford – ‘Street Life’
After parting ways with Rafi Kam last night leaving the Gordan Voidwell / Mickey Factz / Das Racist / Freddie Gibbs show at the Highline Ballroom I caught the Brooklyn bound #4 train. It was half past 1am which is still relatively early as far as NYC streetlife goes.
While waiting for the train on the Union Square platform this shorty walks past me. I sort of laughed in my head like “uh oh, lil’ mama speedin’ with no brakes on”. I say this to myself whenever I see something wayward in the streets. This is because after uhdeen years of seeing this shit I know how it goes. I don’t really pay shorty too much mind.
Once we get on the subway shorty sits directly across from me and then proceeds to lay out on the seatbench like she is going to sleep. Dayyyyum lil’ mama. Let me find out you are homeless? She looks too clean to be a bum like that though. Not that she looked clean, but she didn’t have the grimey luster of someone who regularly slept on subways. I switched my attention from the Blackberry Brickbreaker program to the image capture function.
I snapped her picture.
Shorty asked me if I was taking her picture. I told her I was. I said that you never see someone as cute as her laying down in the subway. It was always oldheads and washed up peoples. Never really no one young, good looking and well dressed. Shorty had it in her mind that I was complimenting her and then she just opened up.
She was laying down because she was bored(?!?). She had just left the Bronx and she was thinking about going to Webster Hall, but she didn’t really know if she wanted to go there, but she still wanted to hang out and get some drinks. I asked her how old she was to be getting drinks. Lil’ mama def looked statutory status. She said she was 21. Ha. So was I. I’ve been 21 for the past 19 years.
I asked her what she was trying to get into tonight. She reiterated that she was looking to get some drinks somewhere. I asked her what she liked to drink. She shrugged her shoulders. Hennessy she offered. I asked her what she knew about Hennessy. I don’t even drink that shit I told her. I caught myself just before I started sounding like someone’s parent which I’m not. I’m not out here to save this chick either. She is on her way and she is going to find the things she is looking for. Will she be able to handle it when she gets it? Maybe, but prA’li not.
This was the type of shit that I would scrape after leaving the club. It was just this simple. Some little piece of group home shit that didn’t want or couldn’t go back home. I had a little one bedroom apartment in Corona back when I was 17yrs old. A lotta these type chicks fell through to drink 40 ozs and puff an el. It doesn’t stop internets. The cycle of life, death, desperation and redemption in the city stays on repeat like my iTunes player.
If this were twenty years ago then you already know the outcome. Instead I went home to my lady. I didn’t even ask shorty her name. I didn’t want to know it either. For all I know she could be my daughter.
