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This drop right here is really, really for the Saturday family. I respect you cats on the Friday grind, but this drop is for the cats that come here on their time, not the man’s time. I see y’all. I fucks with y’all.

Okay, so I looked at myself in some pics the other night at the Complex party and I realized that I drinks too much. Word to ERNIE P. this alcohol shit is gonna kill me, but before I go I’ma let y’all know. That real. That really real.

So here’s where we go in…

The O.D.B. book reading was wack because the author wasn’t going in deep enough on the Wu. She got a little access but her shit was still second hand smoke. Not even a shotgun, just some second hand shit. She didn’t inhale. O.D.B. was a lot greater than she could imagine. Not as an emcee or a rapper, but as a Black man who tried to negotiate the height of this shit. Peace to Dirty and to Dilla. Peace to all the people that watch over us.

The Vibe/FAdR joint was bananas too, but just having an open bar with no soul doesn’t mean shit to me. I stood outside and I seen the Def Jam heavys come through. Then I made my way to the Complex popoff with my peoples from Decon Media. I fucks with these dudes seriously. Especially this cat Ruffian. I don’t fucks with everybody like this man and sometimes I don’t even fucks with him 100 when he has other folks on his coattails other than me. Make no mistake, Ruffian is my nigga tho.

The Complex holiday party was the shit again. D-Nice was on the set spinning that piff. He played a lot of joints that you will never hear in the club along with everything that is hot in the streets right now. I have to shout that man D-Nice. I peeped his photoblog a few years back and I knew I had to get on the internets. O.G. dudes just have an eye for the shit that is super-delicious (no Flavor of Love ho). I had the chance to tell D-Nice thank you for being so Hip-Hop for the last score. Get in where you fit in Gettysburg.

I am drunk right now. The Blackberry Pearl Flip phone party was another joint. That was last night. I apologize to whomever gift bag it was I absconded with. I couldn’t even give this shit away to a homeless person. In Style mag put it together and it is so wack. These magazines and promotions need to really step their gift bag game up. Niketown gave me a keychain. I wanted a second one and the bitch giving them out was hating. Hey lady, this shit was made in China. They made a thousand of these in the same hour that Nike paid you whatever they did to stand at the desk and hold them back from the people. I got two of them so at least two of y’all will get a Nike keychain for Chanukah.

I also went to this sneaker store Goliath in east Harlem for their fourth anniversary party. It was cool. It wasn’t no Vault party, but then again the Vault had Nike money to put into the popoff. Goliath went in with their own cheddar and I still got three Heinekin for free just for showing up. We will have to see how we can help Goliath get their steez to the greater public. I saw a lot of sales in Goliath, especially on ladies kicks. It’s no wonder either since one of the partners is a lady. All my female sneaker fiends need to check this spot out.

So on to the Blackberry joint. My nigga Lowkey let me rock on his coattails. He had super V.I.P. status. Not just open bar but bottle service status. The party was a little bit bougie, but that is what’s up. I knew that the Blackberry people love that corporate chump shit since that is where their bread and butter comes from. I am part of the community that fucks with Blackberry and doesn’t shave their face but maybe once a week. Keep them corporate niggas feeling good about themselves Blackberry but definitely let the creatives get their shit right too because we use these phones just as much.

I’m supposed to have a date with C.S. tonight after I leave the radio station. Oh yeah, tune in to the Industry Shakedown radio show tonight from 7pm to 9pm. My homeys Solace and Pay Jay are letting me hang out with them for another session of Hip-Hop and hoodtalk. Here’s the link with the right phone number this time. After the radio show is a Dewars event I might have to fall through to see if I can score a bottle or two of that shit. Dewars is the shit I use in the winter when I have a real bad cold. I fix up a stewpot with oranges, lemons, anise cloves and Dewars. I kick a cold in the ass. My dad taught me that. My dad also put me on to the Brooklyn Museum of Art’s First Saturdays.

When I moved back into my folks crib in 1998 my dad seen that I was still stuck on that broad that kicked me out her crib. He sent me to the Brooklyn Museum First Saturday party to fuck around with the Black chicks that get they art on. Your parent’s know you better than you know yourself. I need a bitch that likes Star Wars, comic books and sneakers. The only place you gonna find one of those ho’s is at the museum. To tell you the truth I found the only broad that likes all that shit, or at least knows how to front like she does. You could still find you some quality drawls up in that piece. No matter what you do I insist you peep the Egyptian collection. The Hebrew artisans that built up Egypt were fucking ill to def. Word to Moises.

So that is what the fuck I am talking about. And that is what the fuck I have been doing since I touched back down in the NYC. I can’t wait for the holiday parties next week. It’s about to be so fucking crazy I won’t be able to stand it, or stand up.

Pray for me internets.

This entry was posted on Friday, December 5th, 2008 at 5:50 am and is filed under Black Bullshit, Crappers, Ghetto Celebs, H.A.M., Ninjas, No Boutros Boutros... Ghali, T.O.N.Y., Talking Shit, The Addict, When I Reminisce.... You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.