Welcome back to The Bootleg. After last weekend, I think it’s time I found more calming ways to spend my free time. What happened last weekend? Well, I’m glad you asked.
Y’all know how we do this: Everything non-Bootleg related is in italics and mixed in with your usual order of goodness with a side home fries. Eat what you want, but make sure you want what you eat.
Britney Twerks It
I’ve been accused of having no love for the Dirty South and their music…and I don’t because it all sounds like a dentist’s drill in my ear canal. So, you’ll forgive me if the latest news about the Ying Yang Twins collabo with Britney Spears doesn’t exactly sauce my chicken wing. Both sides reportedly got together for a track on Britney’s new album Get In The Zone. I’ll just assume that the Insane Clown Posse was too busy. This has the makings of a catastrophic failure, as Britney has two kinds of fans: 14-year-old suburban girls and 50-year-old perverts. And I don’t see Becky, Heather or Herb lining up for that Down South sh!t. Ya heard?
Longtime Friend of The Bootleg and frequent contributor Nick S. made his first ever visit out to San Diego from an undisclosed state on the East Coast. I hooked up with Nick and his boy “Mike” on Wednesday night at Junior Seau’s sports bar, where we were swimmin’ in Jack Daniels and Samoan Island Iced Teas (think former WWF jobber Sika in beverage form). We closed the place and agreed to meet up again on Friday night for more fun and excrement.
B*tches Ain’t Shhh…
I’m ashamed to be a Californian. No, it’s not the Arnold for Governor thang or the fact that NASCAR and their unwashed yokels are infecting my state. This time it’s the mayor of San Bernardino who draws my ire. She (yep, a chick mayor…only in California) has rap group Cypress Hill and their Smoke Out festival in her sights. After drawing nearly 60,000 to the last Smoke Out (with about 20 arrests), Mayor BitchCheese has stated the show isn’t welcome back. Now, The Bootleg hates to generalize, but this is exactly why we never should’ve given women the right to vote…much less get elected to public office. Quoth James Evans from Good Times, “The kitchen and the bedroom, Florida!”
I scored a hall pass from the wife and made my way down to Nick n’ Mike’s hotel room. Nick met me out front and had obviously been dippin’ into their bathroom sink filled with ice and Steveweisers. I’m tellin’ ya, this boy is as ghetto as a pack of Newports. Anyways, tonight’s first surprise of the evening was that two of Mike’s dawgs from L.A. would be joining us for the evening. No shit, one of ’em was a dead ringer for this guy. Yep, five full-grown men…in my very gay Saturn.
I Freakin’ Hate Kids…For A Few More Months
Whenever I find a news item on Lil’ Romeo or see hear about him claiming the #1 spot on BET’s toxic 106 & Park countdown show, I ask the same question: Do y’all know anyone who buys his albums? Now, it appears he’s headed for the big screen in the “hip hop interpretation” of Shakespeare’s classic…Lil’ Romeo and Lil’ Juliet. Personally, I’ve got 20 bucks that says Master P’s kid ain’t ever read Jack & Jill, much less Romeo & Juliet. Still, I think I can safely say that this will be infinitely better than 1996’s Romeo + Juliet with Mr. Titanic and Ms. To Gillian on her 37th birthday.
We’re rollin’ down the freeway with a total combined weight of about half a ton, so as you might guess, I’m only able to get the Saturn up to about 35 mph. To make the ride that much more enjoyable, I pop in the best of the all-time worst albums…Prime Time by m’man Deion Sanders. Fans of bad music owe it to themselves to get this for their collection. Name another album that features disses to Tim McCarver and Spike Lee and lines like “Me plays baseball, myself plays football and I rhyme.”
Life Imitates…Something
Suge Knight and Sylvester Stallone…together? No, it’s not Rocky VII, Adrian’s Revenge. It seems that Knight has signed on to play himself in Rampart Scandal, a flick on the shady dealings behind the murder of Biggie Smalls in 1997 and the alleged role that Knight and the LAPD played in it. Uh, has anyone ever heard Suge Knight speak? Hell, he makes Rickey Henderson sound like a poet laureate. How can an uneducated man (UNLV? Please…) be expected to read, memorize and recite lines? Still, this might actually work based on Knight’s previous acting experience…for years, he’s been acting like Death Row Records is still worth two squirts of piss.
We finally reached Pacific Beach and after a 2,000-mile hike from where we parked, we started the evening packed in with the other sardines at a place called Moondoggie’s. If you’re lookin’ for action, as all the (unmarried) cats in our group were, this ain’t the place. The women tend to stay in their packs, take advantage of the cheap booze and move on to better bars. The highlights? Well, there were a couple of good fights that spilled into the street. Oh, and I had a ringside seat for Chewie’s six-second rejection at the hands of some bar ho.
It’s Helter Skelter All Over
Ice Cube’s on-again/off-again music career is apparently off…again…kind of. Cube has reportedly told Dr. Dre that he needs to delay the start of his next solo joint so that he can focus on his acting career. Dre was lined up to produce Cube’s latest effort, but considering that the good doctor hasn’t had much success lately outside of the work he’s done with Eminem, 50 Cent and himself (Truth Hurts or Rakim, anyone?) the delay is probably a good thing. Cube, however, is calling himself a “big-time actor”. Yeah, Friday After Next, All About the Benjamins and Ghosts of Mars have got the Academy Award voters watchin’ his every move.
Amazingly, we found a worse place than Moondoggie’s. The L.A. guys were creamin’ about this spot called Open Bar, so we headed over. The guy-to-girl ratio was about 10-1 and nearly 90% of the men were squids or jarheads. Now, I know that G.I. Joe made dudes like Shipwreck and Leatherneck seem cool, but they’re really not. I knew the evening had effectively gone into the crapper when the first woman I started rappin’ with told me I looked like muthaphukkin’ Kevin Johnson?!? Except, I can close my mouth.
Girls, Lisa…Boys Kiss Girls
Melissa Etheridge makes her Bootleg debut with news of her “marriage” to Tammy Lynn Michaels last Saturday. Congrats go out to the happy couple and just to stave off the stray bullets from the religious right that will surely come my way…yes, I’m condoning or glorifying or celebrating the union of two women. The two will raise Melissa’s two kids from her previous relationship with Julie Cypher (by way of David Crosby). While I try’n figure that out…y’all answer this for me: Why don’t the lesbians I know, work with and used to date look like the lesbians on my Jerry Springer: Too Hot For TV video? Discuss.
This horrible and humiliating night was coming to an end, so the five of us prepared for the two-day journey back to the Saturn. I could feel the tasty adult beverages wrecking havoc on my innards, so we walked next door to a 7-11 so I could get a nasty heat lamp dog to absorb some of the Thunderbird. Of course, one of our LA boys thought it would be a great idea to buy a six-pack of Coors and pound it on the way back to the car. Let’s recap: open alcohol containers, streets that have been crawlin’ with cops all night and a long walk ahead of us. Gee, I wonder what happens next?
He’s Already Got An Englishman’s Teeth
You didn’t think we’d get through an entire Bootleg without one mention of 50 Cent? Handsome Curtis Jackson was forced to redo an X-rated remix to his P.I.M.P. video over in England. The original was considered “too explicit”. I hear this version is loaded with milk chocolate, creamy nougat and topless women. Oh, and quoting from the news release it also shows 50 “provocatively grabbing a woman from behind”. As opposed to all those “platonic” grabs of a woman from behind that I was able to plea bargain out of. England will be happy to know that the video was re-shot and toned down, so now y’all will be able to enjoy a little mush mouthed rappin’ with your bangers and mash.
So, we’re crossing the street and of the five of us, three are suckin’ liberally from open cans. I’m still workin’ on my roach-dog, when I see some of Diego’s finest out of the corner of my eye. The cops look right at us and proceed to U-turn to our side of the street. In my most casually hysterical manner I mutter to anyone who’ll listen, “Cops, cops, cops, drop the beer, drop the beer, drop the beer.”
Didn’t You Used To Be…VI
Musician, philanthropist, girly-man…Jon Bon Jovi is all these things and now he can add Arena Football Team Owner to the list! Yeah. Say hello to the Philadelphia Soul, the newest entry into the little talentless league that just won’t go away. Richie Sambora shuffled into this mess as well as a co-owner. The events of the past few years have given sports fans everywhere hope that the athletic landscape shall soon return to balance. The XFL died a quick and hilarious death. That women’s soccer league went the way of the dodo. Now, if we can find a way to push the WNBA and Arena Football off the cliff all will be right with the world
Nick stealthily dropped his suds, LA guy #1 either did the same or put the can in the pocket of his Old Navy cargo pants, but poor Chewie, who was bringing up the rear, ended up getting nabbed by the po-pos. The whole “cuff ’em & stuff ’em” went a lot quicker than it does on Cops. 15 seconds, tops. The black n’ white sped away with the wookie in the back.
Return of The Demon
I think I’ve shared this lil’ nugget with y’all before, but it bears repeating. You know what the greatest thing about rap music is? It’s that, generally, it’s a young man’s game and you’ll never find a 75-year-old Snoop Dogg wheeling himself out for eight shows a year. On the other hand, there’s Gene Simmons of Kiss fame. 10-inch tongue, clown paint and platinum platform jackboots. Yeah, he’s not gay. He’s reportedly been banned from any future book signings at the Borders chain after numerous requests to sign the cleavage and asses of shriveled up soccer grandmothers. Let’s not even get into the fact that a guy with two workin’ brain cells is a published author, yet my coming-of-age tale of a young mulatto pop-locker in 1984 Worcester, MA has yet to be released.
Chewbacca seemed like a nice enough guy, but as the evening wore on, he was becoming that drunk guy that annoys everybody. So, it was no surprise that there were few, if any tears shed for him. In fact, we stopped laughing long enough to call his cell phone and quote from The Cable Guy that we gonna put the system on trial. He was released six hours later…never to know his eventual role as filler in this week’s column.
Sometimes The News Just Writes Itself
The Dixie Chicks are lookin’ for a new home. Chicklet Martie Maguire told some Kraut magazine that they “don’t feel part of the country scene any longer and it can’t be our home anymore”. The obvious question is what the hell took them so long to come to this decision? The “home” of country music is actually a doublewide trailer full of velvet paintings, kissin’ cousins, moon pies and Piggly Wiggly bags that act as trashcans. They should be lookin’ to come on over to the “rap” home. Sure, there’s hot sauce everywhere, Black-on-Black crime and a Scarface poster on every wall, but at least there’s indoor plumbing.
General Haberdashery
As always, the pimpin’ begins with m’dawgs from 3THW. Fernandez en Sábado y Joe Namath en Domingo. Why Broadway Joe? Because he guaranteed that this would be his best 411 work to date and he was right.
Daniels is giving y’all a chance to become (internet) famous in his always excellent column.
Joe Posten reboots the Ask 411 Music section. Please ask him something, so he doesn’t have to use his tryout article again next week.
Mathan hasn’t been seen for a minute, so enjoy this encore presentation of an Erhardt classic.
Junk Mail
Sometimes I worry that my off-the-wall obscure references go right by my readers. That’s why it’s always great to get junk mail like this from Gary:
Don’t worry about losing this fan of your work. Blue Devil was the shit man! Have you been reading the Formerly Known as Justice League mini series? It’s not quite as fun as the late 80s comic (which was my fave) but still a fun read. Peace man and keep up the great column.
Thanks to the half-dozen or so cats that wrote in on the Blue Devil reference. To those who asked, my can’t miss reads back then were The (New Teen) Titans, The Outsiders, Flash, Justice League and the occasional storyline driven title like Death in the Family. What can I say…in the ’80s, I was the Black Comic Book Guy.
Our resident Friday Movie Maestro (sans Ryan Shamrock/Symphony) checked in with a follow up to last week’s comments on Quentin Tarentino:
Since you stumbled onto my turf for a second . . . for the record, Quentin DID start a new “Tarantino era” in film – it’s just he wasn’t the one making the films. And I loved Jackie Brown – the fact that it didn’t jump start Pam Grier’s career is a shame.
Great points…and if you’re not inviting Joe Reid into your homes, offices or computer labs on Fridays then you’re missing out…or the restraining order finally kicked in. Remember, Joe…100 feet at all times.
Now, Joe makes a cameo later in this column, but first I need a segue to the Fantasy Football portion and our very own John B. Haley takes care of that:
You forgot to pimp my team when you mentioned j-lew dominating the Browns. Excellent column otherwise.
Bastard. See, my fantasy team was pimp-slapped a few weeks back by John’s team and Jamal Lewis. But, I have no problem with endorsing Haley’s Column this week. It features full-color pics of Isabel’s too-close-to-home wrath along with a tribute to Howard Finkel. “Haley’s Column”…I think I made a funny. Or not.
Pretend Football
The Bootleggers picked up their first win of the season over the “New York Jets”. I can’t say I earned it, as the Jets had one of those weeks where everyone sucked for them. I’ve got Bulger starting at QB this week and a questionable Randy Moss, so I should be right back to losing in no time.
Aaron The Greek
Alright…that’s it. I’m officially retired from football pickery. Anyone out there who wants to pick a game for the following week (especially fellow 411 writers), send it on in. This week’s special guest is, once again, Joe Movie Guy.
St. Louis WILL beat Arizona at home. No way the Cards win 2 in a row. Faulk’s loss won’t hurt as much as you’d think as he’s been surprisingly mediocre this season thus far (as my fantasy stats will reflect). Bulger’s arm is what will take them there this week. The Rams may suddenly be just another mediocre NFC team, but mediocre NFC teams still beat the Cardinals. At home at least. RAMS 21-9
Now, I’ve loved n’ worshipped my Raiders from Kenny King and Lester Hayes to Dokie Williams and Tecmo Bo to Tim Brown and Seabass, but that Monday Night Debacle against Denver was even worse than the 1986 Monday Night 33-0 throttling at the hands of Seattle that my boy Vig still remembers and reminds me about. So, here’s my last Raider call for the year:
San Diego Chargers – 33 Aaron’s Oakland Raiders – 27 (OT)
Coming Soon
New reviews of Bubba Sparxxx, Outkast, Obie Trice, Julez Santana and Murphy Lee should fill up most of October. Along with the completion of my long-delayed Tupac material. Promises, promises.
Oakland A’s Update: It’s prediction time…the flaccid A’s offense shouldn’t stand a chance against the runs Boston can put on the board. I see a low scoring, pitching dominated series that goes five…with the A’s getting bounced out, again. Elsewhere, take the Yankees in four over Minnesota and a pair of upsets: Florida over the Giants in four and the Cubs (or Astros) over Atlanta in four.
Scared Str8
So, I decide to take an MHD (mental health day) from the rat race to catch up on a few thangs, watch some Family Guy DVD comedy and just generally chill. My mistake was tellin’ the wife. She decided to stay home, too, and she just sent me to the store for toilet paper and grape jelly. As y’all know, she’s three months pregnant and unable to drive the block and a half to the store on her own.
I need cheap Division Series Tickets. Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13
