Welcome back to The Bootleg. Here’s some free advice to everyone out there who will someday be married to a pregnant wife: Don’t get sick. I’m just now coming out of a weeklong battle with the flu and Mrs. Bootleg pretty much left me to wallow under a pile of used Kleenex (with lotion) and half-sucked cough drops that ended up stuck to the side of my face as I passed out from my double shot of Thera-Flu.
Here’s a moment I’ll never forget…During Day #3 of my deathwatch, I asked the wife to fix me some scrambled eggs. Total freakin’ prep time: 5 minutes. She gets distracted by a pile of laundry, yells at me for puttin’ one of her maternity fat shirts in the dryer and falls asleep on the couch.
After four hours of watchin’ her in this ovarian coma, I threw on some shoes, grabbed my car keys and went out to kill my own dinner. The wife lurches up, mid-snore, and tells me, “If you’re goin’ to Taco Bell, bring me back something!” Unbelievable. Those of you who had “11 months, 2 weeks” in the “How Long Will This Marriage Last?” pool came this close to cashin’ them tickets.
And yes, I could’ve made the damn eggs myself, but the little woman gets the perfect blend of salt, pepper and Tabasco that makes every bite “una fiesta de huevos en mi boca” or an egg party in my mouth.
Even The Goodness would be favored over the Raiders…
Chariots of…Something
Puff Daddy continued his charitable pitch for support in his effort to run the NY Marathon and finish three hours behind whichever 98-pound Kenyan wins it this year. Earlier this week, the real live running man spoke to an assembly of 6th graders and fixed his mouth to drop this gem on ’em…
You don’t get a lot of the things you see myself, Jay-Z and 50 Cent get unless you get an education.
Absorb that sage piece of wisdom for a moment…50 Cent & education. If this were an SAT test, the correct match would be (D) “Star Jones & No, Thanks I’m Full”. Y’know what 50 “got” from his education? Nine gunshot wounds and a freezer full of all the malt liquor he wants. Outside of rappers and 7-11 clerks, who’d want to brag about that?
If They Only Knew…How Far I’ve Fallen
When you’ve eaten dung beetles on Fear Factor and been knocked-out by the National Joke of 1992 in Celebrity Boxing, you might think that’s as low as you can go. I guess no one told that to Chyna. The Amazon of Androgyny is (wait for it) releasing her debut album next Tuesday. Seriously…Chyna. She’s already out promoting 2X Centrix, which will feature some rock, some rap and Chyna on the drums a few times. If this isn’t a cry for help, I don’t know what is. This is gonna be bad…I’m talkin’ Magic Johnson’s talk show bad, kids. I really don’t know what to tell y’all. If you guys run out and buy it, we might end up with a double-album from her next year. If you don’t, she might go Margot Kidder on all of us. Mmmmm, Margot Kidder.
How Much Fo’ One Rib?
VMA Award winner and ebony oompaloompa Missy Elliott is next in line for MTV’s $2 Bill Concert Series. The show will originate from my hometown of Los Scandalous (by way of Long Beach) and as the title implies, tickets are only two bucks a pop. Here’s a handy guide for everyone who graduated with me from Woodrow Wilson High School in tha LBC. $2 = just one bag of oranges sold from a freeway offramp or 90 minutes of panhandling outside Starbucks or the round trip bus fare to your “audition” or the price for a case of Domino CDs or the fee they charge to cash a welfare check at Lucky Star Check Cashing and Fine Vietnamese Cuisine.
If You Only Knew…What I’m Gonna Do To You
After years of performing everyone else’s material, Chris Jericho and his band, Fozzy, have announced plans to drop an all-original album next spring. The current over/under on the number of reviews 411 will post when it comes out stands at 11. When will these sport-entertainers learn that no one wants to see them outside of the ring? You know what happens when you bring wrestling and rock together? You get “Kick”. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Kick…from the 1987 movie Body Slam? They were the band that Face from the A-Team merged with Roddy Piper and Tama. Jesus, could a movie like that even be made today? “Egg Foo Yung Chinese, Mr. Smi-rac. I’m Korean…eyes different!”
Happy Muthaphukkin’ Birthday
Eminem turned 31 last Friday and celebrated with a surprise party in his honor. The invitation-only guest list included his protégés from D12, old school icons Biz Markie and Big Daddy Kane, along with everyone’s respective probation officer. Speakin’ of Biz, I think it’s high time the industry recognizes this man’s long and stellar career in music and television. Sure, he gets a lotta love for his classic joints like Vapors, but did you know that he co-starred on In Living Color during the laugh-free Jay Leggett era? He then managed to turn that gig into a guest spot in Men in Black II, an ad campaign with Sprite and a 15-year run as Chris Berman’s co-host on NFL Prime Time.
Menace II A Steady Job
From time to time, someone picks up on my wanton bashing of Ashanti and asks me why I can’t stand her. It’s simple…the bitch can’t sing. I’m bettin’ she can’t act, either, and she gets her chance to prove me right with the release of Rain On Me. It’s a “mini-movie” on the evils of domestic violence and you can get your copy at LidRock.com. It co-stars Larenz Tate from Menace II Society and Love Jones, as well. Can I just say, when your career takes you from Hollywood movie premieres to playin’ second fiddle on a glorified afterschool special, it’s time for a change. Here’s a line from Larenz’ next role, “Have you heard about our Zesty Chicken Bowls?”
No One Remembers Who Finishes First
It’s been an exciting week for this year’s American Idol winner. He sang at The World Series and dropped his highly anticipated debut album. What? That wasn’t Ruben Studdard? Oh, that was the runner-up, Clay Aiken. Well, someone betta call Theodore R. Long, Clarence Mason and the whole Nation of Domination because something smells foul…and I don’t mean my Patrick Ewing game-used jersey. Studdard will drop his debut album nearly two months after Aiken and, to celebrate, he’ll sing at the home opener for the Atlanta Hawks. And if any of you can name any current or former Hawk not named after a porn star or a potato…I’ll part with my entire stack of Stacey Augmon rookie cards. Or, just pay for shipping and they’re yours.
I’m Not Tryin’ To Say It Was A Slow News Week, But…
I’m told that every Friday morning in The Magnolia Projects of New Orleans, all the grade-school dropout girls and boys, along with their out-of-work mommies and baby-daddies gather around their one computer and read The Bootleg. Here’s one for y’all: Juvenile has officially returned to Cash Money Records and will drop his next album around Christmas. A great gift idea, to be sure, but you could just as easily take a shit under the Christmas tree, put a bow on it and get the same effect. And by “Christmas Tree”, I mean the stack of Popeye’s boxes in the corner.
Sometimes The News Just Writes Itself
In a union that can only be rivaled by Barry Bonds and his, uh, “pharmacist”…X-Box and P. Diddy have reached an endorsement agreement. Microsoft is promising that Diddy’s “voice and signature ad libs” will be part of their holiday ad campaign. Signature ad libs? When did “take that, take that, take that” and “c’mon” become the intellectual property of Sean Combs? Now, let’s all point and laugh at this quote from the soon-to-be former Director of Brand Marketing for X-Box, Don Hall
Diddy is multi-faceted, has made a significant social impact and pulls millions of people together in a positive way.
And next January, won’t we all be celebratin’ Puffy Luther King Day? Of course, I’m assuming it won’t conflict with any pending court dates. P. Diddy Inc. released a canned statement, as well:
I love playing Xbox games and believe that this system’s cultural influence as a social entertainment brand has only just begun.
It’s nice to know that he thinks an entire race of people can be measured by Sonic The Hedgehog. I’m proposing a four-word cap on any public statements from this clown. He can start with “me likey money”.
(Yeah, I know, but that’s probably as high as he can count.)
Nick’a Please…!
Award-winning columnist, Nick Salemi, is back for another round of his Connecticut brand of sour mash whiskey. Think of him as our Andy Rooney…except, alive. This week, Nick is stalkin’ Jessica Simpson and her reality show.
I assume the idea behind this show is the same as the Osbournes, but honestly does ANYONE want to watch someone from a 3rd rate boy-band (Not that they ALL aren’t 3rd rate) move furniture into his $1 million dollar F***ING HOUSE?
There’s some entertainment.
It’s reminiscent of how Ozzy’s incoherent babbling was funny at the beginning but by the time he was making Pepsi commercials, it got a little tiring. I do enjoy the look on Lachey’s face that constantly says “Yeah I’m hittin this but is it all worth it?”
I’d like to test for myself.
Either she’s putting on the acting job of the century or no one in recent memory has put herself out there to look this f*cking stupid.
And let’s face it, Simpson is a third rate Britney Spears talent wise-(wow, think about that for a second.) But you put Britney, Christina and The Queen of Dumb together and I’m not gonna complain. Don’t get me wrong, MTV knows what it’s doing, they don’t go too long without showing a close-up of her in some ridiculously hot outfit or saying something really stupid but for love of god…”Let’s watch rich people go camping” isn’t really my idea of TV.
So f*cking stupid and RICH…Hate her.
So f*cking hot…Love her.
Now I’m confused.
General Haberdashery
Mister Sunday made his triumphant return last week. Did you know he won a week of fantasy football while starting a QB who had a bye?
Fernandez is second only to Dick Clark when it comes to Saturday traditions. Did you know he looks like 50 Cent?
Evocator is your Thursdayer purveryor of evil and has been feelin’ it the last two weeks. McGriddles, Jack Black, the root of the Raiders problems…and some music news, too.
Biscuiti, Matt brings the goodness to his fine column, with my first ever guest appearance. Plus, he wrote another column that I’m not in…don’t click it if you don’t want to.
Junk Mail
One of our favorite Friends of the Bootleg sent this little nugget in. For all y’all who’ve ever asked…”how young is too young?”
Just one more thing from last week on the little girls in little clothes for anyone who’s around my age (21)…until you’re 22 anything five years younger than you is ok and after that its half your age plus seven. For example, if you were thirty: 30/2=15+7=22. Anyways pass that along to anyone you know who might need it and have a good weekend.
Have I ever mentioned how many kinds of ass my readers kick? That’s from Canadian Jared, so crunch the numbers and send me your rejects…the chubbier the better.
Pretend Football
The Bootleggers continue their juggernaut-like roll through the 411 Fantasy Football League. More goodness from Marc Bulger and a big game from Tomlinson led us to our fifth straight win. Oh, and if anyone can find Tiki Barber, tell him he’s been benched in favor of Darnell Jefferson. And I’m puttin’ Lattimer on defense.
Oh, and before I forget…a real prediction from our Friday Movie Guy. He’s guaranteeing the Kansas City Chiefs and their undefeated run will come to an end Sunday against his Buffalo Bills. Look for him in your local bar…he’ll be rockin’ the “Bring Back Flutie” shirt. To each their own, I guess…
Coming Soon
This damn dirty flu kept me from starting Countdown To Resurrection on schedule. Thanks to everyone for their patience and the “where Pac at” emails. Keep sending your positive or negative Tupac comments in and once the series begins, drop a brutha a line and tell me what you think.
Scared Str8
Y’all know I like to use this section to celebrate the experience of living with a short, irritable pregnant woman. Well, I pretty much covered this week’s pleasure up in the intro, so I’ll leave you with this.
A few days ago, Mrs. Bootleg asked me to rub some goo on her belly, so that she wouldn’t get stretch marks. Remember…anyone can make a baby…it takes a real man to be a father…and only a pussy-whipped biiatch would butter up his wife’s Buddha belly.
The wife just gained eight more pounds. Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13
