December 14, 2011

(Source: evilmissfrankenheimer)

December 9, 2011

I think swag jerry rice is a pretty cool guy. Eh words aronud town and doesnt afraid of anything.

(Source: cheerleaders)

December 7, 2011
Rap Industry Fan Fiction: Lil B takes the SAT

rapindustryfanfiction:

[submitted by ray]

Lil B checked his wrist, his neck, and his pinky just to make sure they were iced out. Whenever he was in a new place and unsure about anything he could always be sure that he was iced out, and indeed he was.

However, that didn’t help the fact that he was still…

(Source: rapindustryfanfiction)

December 6, 2011
An Ode to the Expenditure of Funds, Also Referring in Part to a Notable Criminal Syndicate

Sometimes, I like to write wordier versions of rap songs. I’ve published a few on Facebook, and figured Tumblr might like to see them as well. 

This one is “BMF,” by Rick Ross.

Hello.

Allow me to clear my laryngeal passages.

With that achieved, let us begin.

(Chorus)

Gentlemen, I have encountered a fairly severe confusion of identities. It appears that at times i believe myself to be Big Meech, as well as Larry Hoover. I compare myself to the individuals in particular because we have in common a certain enthusiasm for distributing illegal substances, committing violent crimes, and above all obtaining nefariously gained funds. We have been actively involved in the latter for an extended period of time.

(Mr William Roberts)

My Rolls-Royce sedan is of a tenebrous hue, both inside and out. It is my means of conveyance to all manner of nightclubs, at which i purchase a great deal of Champagne and discuss my criminal exploits. These activities are common enough for me that an alternative moniker for me has been devised, namely “Rick Rozay.” I daresay that I have been involved in the drug trade for long enough that it has surreptitiously made intravenous inroads on my person. My authenticity is not to be challenged, especially by somebody who lacks credibility himself. I would like to provide an interesting anecdote, if I may. A gentleman fitting the previous description was naive enough to claim that he was the exclusive paramour of a certain lady, while all the while I had been having sexual intercourse with her. When I enter any room, I am accompanied by gentlemen with felonious backgrounds, all of whom can vouch for the purity of my personal reserve of cocaine, which justifies its added cost.

(Chorus)

My enemies envy my abundant jewels and considerable wealth. I have been known to spend undeclared money in a manner visible to the federal government, risking my security in order to flaunt my resources. If you are inclined to doubt my credibility or my expenditures, I urge you to consider my wristwatch. It is an Audemars-Piguet, and came to me at no small cost, I assure you. Again, I am both wealthy and formidable in combat, and my wealth is due to my proficiency in the illicit sectors of my area’s economy. This coposition is dedicated to my compatriots and co-conspirators, whether they be of affluent or impoverished stock. Those who convey information to law enforment are to be reviled, and to discourage this behavior I have paid a sizeable sum to have an individual guilty of such skulduggery slain.

(Chorus)

(Mr David Styles)

If a gentleman of any description chooses to defy me, I shall promptly shoot him thirty-six times, to pay tribute to the similar number of ounces in a kilogram. I enjoy smoking marijuana, and under its influence performing dangerous stunts in my customized Japanese all-terrain vehicle. An added benefit of this pastime is the profuse opportunity to dispense projectiles from my submachine gun towards bystanders. My associates and I are accomplished marksmen, and wield powerful revolvers as well as the aforementioned automatic weapon. In addition to this already sizeable arsenal, we possess high-capacity magazines for our guns, enabling us to open fire for extended periods of time, and thus adding to our potential impact on our enemies’ numbers. I have demonstrated notable proficiency in the sale of illegal substances, and as such have gained enough capital that if I desire, I may recline upon its surface as if it were furniture.

(Chorus)

December 5, 2011

Rough cut of some homegrown VT stuff.

SpookyCK and Von Franz.

It’s by no means final, but it’s pretty decent nonetheless.

Give it a listen.

November 28, 2011

November 5, 2011

UGH…There he go, that’s Adam Richman,

There he go, that’s Adam Richman,

There he go, that’s Adam Richman,

Catch him making faces all up in your kitchen

Mozzarell’…. Adam Richman,

Crab legs….Adam Richman,

That dude eating wings, that’s Adam Richman.

That dude eating ribs, that’s Adam Richman

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

UGH,

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

UGH, I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

I ate a steak….that shit paid fo’.

I drank shakes…them shits paid fo’.

Drama school…that shit made fo’

Man Vs. Food, throw it on the table,

Ayyo, you know I got that A-1,

Steak sauce; adds a bit of flavor,

Ugh,

Eat burritos like it’s no thang,

Ten grilled cheese sandwiches, I got no shame,

We in the kitchen; I check out fresh meat,

Any kind of food’s bound to impress me

My drink’s emp-ty,

Better re-fresh me,

You know my name, bitch….Adam Richman.

Mozzarell’…. Adam Richman,

Crab legs….Adam Richman,

That dude eating wings, that’s Adam Richman.

That dude eating ribs, that’s Adam Richman

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

UGH,

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

UGH, I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

I know the deal….I’m not an actor,

Triple decker sandwiches, I attack ‘em,

They taste great, I try and stack ‘em

I’m filming episodes, don’t try and reenact ‘em!

Ugh, reporting live from my tour bus,

Restaurant staff tries to endure us,

Inspect food, holler twice :”Oh my goodness!”

When we out to lunch, know them tacos for us.

Sundaes taller than a bulldozer,

Bathroom trips and fried chicken when we pull over,

Aviators on, mics and cameras in the room.

Asked me ‘bout the show, I told ‘em “Man vs. Food.”

Mozzarell’…. Adam Richman,

Crab legs….Adam Richman,

That dude eating wings, that’s Adam Richman.

That dude eating ribs, that’s Adam Richman

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

UGH,

I’m still ballin’ like I’m Guy Fieri,

I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

UGH, I ate a platter full of chili dogs.

November 3, 2011

gimmedanoise:

Au79 by Tyler, the Creator

I like this more than I used to. It’s good reading music, and loosens up those cross-associative sensory phenomena that I suspect may have something to do with allowing more information to be absorbed, and more diverse approaches to be taken when interpreting it. It’s like a palate-cleansing sorbet, introduced right before the final, heaviest track on the album. Goblin's a bit like a long meal, in that respect; a heavily-spiced, protein-rich, Momofuku-style interpretation of infarction-inducing childhood dishes. Au79 brings balance where very little is expected, or even thought to be necessary until it is tasted.

(Source: qu1et-waters)

November 2, 2011

I think that I’ve become the kind of person my childhood self would have thought was cool.

I’ve got on the same t-shirt I got circa fourth grade at the Museum of Fine Arts during their “Dangerous Curves: Art of the Guitar” exhibit. Uncharacteristic foresight on the part of a ten-year-old, buying a medium and subjecting it to the kind of abuse only a grade-school playground can offer. The result, after having had the shirt for the latter half of my life, is a pale crimson hue that somehow brings me back to the scrub pines and battered woodwork of the Cape. My sneakers are white canvas, which I was reluctant as a child to admit that I liked. I’ve since come around, though.

I still listen to rock music; namely Warren Zevon, as evidenced by a number of prior posts. The majority of music on my computer is rap and hip-hop, and that’s the case for a number of reasons. Rap is both poetic and character-driven, and a child with an affinity for wordplay and a half-finished comic book page close at hand whenever possible would certainly have appreciated those two aspects. A keen linguistic sense and appreciation for unique voices and dialects might have also allowed my past self to derive at least some degree of entertainment from rap music of any sort.

As for academic and occupational trajectory, I’d likely have been able to appreciate the somewhat unconventional way in which I’ve been spending the last couple years. As a marginally engaged student whose desk relentlessly consumed anything of scholastic importance but reliably stored ten or eleven books (one of which I’d keep in my lap and read during class with few attempts to conceal it, illicit as the pastime may have been) , I’d become fairly cognizant of the discrepancy between my ability and performance. It was addressed with varying degrees of concern over the years, and to my satisfaction I managed to confound as many remedial specialists (accredited and otherwise, with emphasis on “otherwise”) as set out to change my ways and “fix” me. There was never much doubt in my mind about the presence of some sort of asynchronous cognitive attributes whose traits would both assist and frustrate me regardless of my position in life. The way I see it, I would be just as foolish to compare my challenges to those of a “normal” student as I would my abilities in certain sectors. In a way, I’m back to elementary school. With high school’s social turmoil and one-size-fits-all curriculum behind me, I’m now free to pursue something that truly engages me, and I like to think that my childhood self would have approved.

October 24, 2011

"Bjork to Thom Yorke, Europe to New York/Morrison of The Doors, a morsel of Too $hort."

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