Welcome back to The Bootleg. Y’know…throughout the duration of Mrs. Bootleg’s pregnancy, the one thing I heard more than anything else was that there is no greater life-changing event than parenthood. I usually just tossed these comments aside like the one coconut donut that always seems to find its way into the dozen that your co-worker brings to the office every Friday.
It seems, however, that truer words were never spoken. Baby Bootleg will turn one month old this Sunday and it didn’t take nearly that long to realize that my life will never be the same. In fact, of all the changes, none have hit closer to home than the realization that I’ve Ceased To Exist.
Every phone, email and face-to-face conversation I’ve had since the birth of my son has begun with “How’s Jalen?” Usually followed by “How’s the wife?” I’m convinced if I took a bullet for the President, the eventual surgery would be preceded by the doctor whispering in my ear: “I saw your wife in the hospital cafeteria. She’s really doing great!”
My twin brother and I have a birthday at the end of this month. Unfortunately, it’s dangerously close to the day that my son should be discharged from the hospital. For years, March 30 was known as the day Aaron and Ryan were born and concurrently forever plumpened my mother’s ass, stomach, thighs and ankles…now, in her eyes, it will be the day her grandson came home to complete the circle of life. You remember…it’s when your parents give you the line, “I hope one day you have a child that acts just like you!”
If that’s the case, I’d better hide the Ho Hos and the remote control. Seriously, the greatest discoveries of my corpulent youth were finding a meal between breakfast n’ brunch and uncovering a local channel that aired back-to-back episodes of Masters of the Universe on Sunday mornings. That’s two times the Ram-Man, two times the Orko and, most importantly, two times the Teela. And for a 10-year-old boy…
By the power of Greyskull Goodness…!
Her Looks Are Inversely Proportional To Her Skills
Supermodel Tyra Banks has, very quietly, released her first single and accompanying video. And, when I say “quietly”, I ain’t kidding…it debuted on her little-watched UPN reality series America’s Next Top Model. It’s a dance track called Shake Ya Body that features contestants from the show, along with a singing voice from Tyra that practically screams “post production”. Tyra…you’re fine…leave it at that.
We all know you earned that role in Higher Learning with some quality time on John Singleton’s rented, plastic-covered casting couch. But, did you actually watch the movie? Aside from being three feet taller than co-star Omar Epps, the one lasting image I have is your death scene. It was so bad, I wanted Michael Rappaport to put two more bullets in you…just to make sure.
It Would Explain A Lot
It’s an ending only slightly more predictable than every romantic comedy made in the last twenty years (Will she decide to marry the slimy, self-centered jerk or the decent and earnest Matthew McConaughey…? Let’s pretend it’s 1997 where he and Chris O’Donnell are still publicly considered alive, of course.) There are whispers that Sean “P. Diddy” Combs hasn’t committed himself to his part in the Broadway adaptation of Raisin In The Sun.
Previews are slated to kick off later this month and sources are saying that he has yet to even read the script. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? That’s right…maybe he hasn’t read the script, because he can’t read the script. Wait a minute…this isn’t some cheap gag on illiteracy. Remember that episode of The Cosby Show where Theo overcame dyslexia? Perhaps Diddy has that. It sure as hell would explain some of these lyrics that have actually come from his mouth:
“N*gga, please. I’m the macaroni with the cheese.” – Been Around The World
Period, no question, no comma
You’re hearing it…no vest and no armor
Bring it to cats like Bush to Osama – No More Drama (Remix)
Now, first come the cash, then come the ass
Then come big blunts with big chunks of hash
When I score with a whore she be game fo’ sho’
Pimp so hard, a n*gga drag his mink on the floor – The World Is Filled
Don’t Call It A Hatchback
What do you think of when you hear music that epitomizes the Hip Hop culture? Back-in-the-day barbecues? Beautiful women in big-budget videos? Or maybe, big blocky cars that your parents conceived you in? Volvo Cars of North America have kicked off their latest ad campaign built entirely on the beats of Dilated Peoples. Rapper LL Cool J will handle the narration duties for the spots, which should begin airing this month. Somehow, I don’t think the Funkmaster Flex “driving shoe” was made for this line. Perhaps there’s a Crazy Legs “orthopedic shoe” on the horizon for this.
Forcing Hip Hop down the throats of a conservative car-buying demographic like Volvo’s will fail and fail spectacularly. See, kids…ol’ Uncle Aaron remembers rap’s first big boom in the late ’80s. At the time, everyone from Ronald McDonald and Grimace, all the way to the Pillsbury Doughboy and McGruff the Crime Dog were “rapping” in their commercials. These, and other ads like them, were often met with derisive laughter and a shameful shake of the head…not unlike the mere sight of someone wearing a WWE shirt of any kind.
Think Of It As A Ghetto ‘Picture Pages’
Earlier this week, there was a rumor making the rounds that Suge Knight was planning to publish his own magazine. It’s supposed to be called “Uncut” and feature about 50% Hip Hop and 50% tabloid journalism. We’ve obtained an advance copy of the premiere issue and, I’ve gotta say…there’s the potential for bigger and better things here. Feature articles include:
Necrophilia: The Marketing of Tupac, Left Eye and Katie Vick
The Return of Kurupt: Why No One Cares
Suge Knight, The Gooch, Butch from The Little Rascals & Other Bullies Who Aren’t Scary Any More
Danny Boy…Gay Man or Ugly Woman?
Say Chowdah!
Ludacris’ appearance at a concert on the campus of Northeastern University has been cancelled. Apparently, the school was the flashpoint for a post-Super Bowl riot that left one person dead. School President Richard Freeland considered the scheduled event to be inappropriate given the overall mood of the students and faculty. See, New England…? This is why no one wants to see the Red Sox ever win it all. The thought of seeing historic towns like Boston burn to the ground…Springfield steamrolled into soot…Lowell lit up like a Roman candle…
Eh, then again, Massachusetts is just a commonwealth, after all, so would anyone really miss it? I guess it doesn’t really matter, though. You Kennedy-lovin’ funny-talkers are safe from any victory-sparked urban uprising in 2004. When Pedro Martinez misses his customary eight starts and Nomar continues his offensive slide, you’ll all find yourselves with a lot more time on your hands this October. Why not see if Dunkin’ Donuts is hiring? I’m sure Bill Simmons will need a new second job to supplement his Page 2 gig by then.
God Schmod…I Want My Monkey Man
Lil’ Jon has single-handedly ruined some of my favorite “urban” radio stations. In his latest attempt to pour orange juice on my open mouth sore, he’s announced plans to host his own syndicated radio show called “Crunk Radio”. The pain will last for two hours each week and is described as a “hit driven Hip Hop/R&B show”. I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is the worst news to involve a radio station since that Married…With Children aborted spin-off episode in 1995.
And, speaking of shitty spin-offs…what’s the over/under on the number of weeks Matt LeBlanc’s show Joey will last on the airwaves next season? How desperate must NBC be to hang their hat on an actor who once played second banana fiddle to a ball playing chimp? Which reminds me…how come you never see that many movies with monkeys, anymore? They were getting more work than Charlton Heston in the ’70s while today, they’re getting less work than Charlton Heston.
Rap Boy Lives
Eminem’s strategy of laying low until the whole Benzino thing blows over appears to be paying off. Slim Shady is reported in talks with comic book writer Mark Millar to play the lead role in the big-screen adaptation of Wanted. The comic focuses on a spineless tool named Wesley Gibson who appears to be the embodiment of 1999 Em (victimized, unassertive and pathetic). He then wakes up one morning, infused with super-powers, but at an extraordinary price. Which, if you think about it…is eerily similar to Em’s breakout year in 2000 (and subsequent gay/lesbian controversy). Now, if this Wesley character has a half-Black/half-Italian archenemy with salt-and-pepper cornrows and an ax to grind…well, that would be freaky.
Sometimes The News Just Writes Itself
Middle-aged agitator, unwashed orator and hip hop mogul, Russell Simmons, 79, is all in a snit and this time, it has nothing to do with wife Kimora hiding his dentures or the wear-n-tear on his artificial hip. It seems that the clothing conglomerate known as Urban Outfitters has a new best-selling t-shirt. For just $28, you, too, can sport this long-sleeved model that proclaims:
Voting Is For Old People
For those of you don’t know, for years Simmons has been refusing to go quietly into his booth at Denny’s for the senior’s menu and the early bird special. In fact, in addition to his clothing line and music empire, he also started up a grassroots campaign to get young adults registered to vote. He’s taken the Urban Outfitters’ shirt personally and offered up this zesty retort:
“Maybe Phat Farm should make a T-shirt that reads: ‘Shopping at Urban Outfitters Is For Old People…'”
Ooooooooooooooh…that’s telling ’em, Russell. Maybe after that, Phat Farm can mass-produce the same XXXL jeans you wear to keep that catheter bag hidden as “your little yellow secret”. For the unsophisticated, I’m talking about urine, not Woody Allen’s…ah, never mind.
Nick’a Please
conceptualized by Nick Salemi
It’s a super-sized Salemi this week, as he finds time to critique a child’s work and catches up with an old Cuban friend:
If I Can Change, You Can Change
I’ve recently discovered a one-page essay written by a high school student who was asked to write about Rocky IV and how it related to the cold war. I swear to god this is an actual paper handed in for a grade. I have copied it verbatim in all its raw, uncut glory. The spelling, punctuation, grammatical and common sense errors that appear in every sentence were left unchanged. I found it absolutely hysterical on its own but it helps tremendously to read it out loud and if possible, to do so while imitating the voice of the guy who does all the overly dramatic movie preview trailers. Be afraid for the future of America, be very afraid…
“A hero death would be Avenge by Another Hero? Rocky Balboa? After Apollo Greed had died during his last match against Ivan Drago. The people of United State of America had blamed the Russian, the Soviet Union and most Drago was the biggest blame of all. So Rocky Balboa had challenge Drago on Christmas Day for a boxing match. Rocky is fighting for his love ones, his country, Apollo Greed, and for himself.
After Apollo had died, Rocky thought all of Apollo Spirit had died but it didn’t because Rocky himself will keep it alive until he defeat Drago & continue with his life. So will Rocky or Dargo prove themselves a true champion on Christmas Day in Russia.
In America & the Soviet Union, are they going to have a war because of Apollo Greed had died as a hero because of Ivan Drago threat. The war would be nothing because people die as hero not to blame just hero. Just prepare for Christmas Day Rocky Balboa vs. Ivan Drago live in Russia.”
You still with me? Holy crap. Can you see this on the back of the DVD box? Who the hell is Dargo, and Apollo Greed for that matter? Is there bonus footage missing from the version I’ve watched? Either way, I think we can all agree that “a hero death would be Avenge by Another Hero?” even if “people die as hero not to blame just hero”.
God help us.
No Way, José
According to espn.com, Jose Canseco has announced he will not play Major League Baseball this year. Of course it’s really not his choice, the Los Angeles Dodgers decided they want no part of him. Well, they better not complain if their lineup doesn’t produce runs or their relief pitching is less than stellar, because Mr. Canseco can provide plenty of both.
He hilariously stated that “This is probably going to be my last attempt – see you in the movies”. Apparently for anyone in the Miami area, this means you will soon have a 6 foot 4 240 pound guy ripping your tickets at a movie theater near you. “Spider Man 2
is in theater 8 on your left.” From chartering the 40-40 club to asking if you want to get a large popcorn for just 50 more cents, what’s next for the big guy?
I tell you what’s next for ajc and Nick. In an unbelievably embarrassing testament to how pathetic things have become, on his website, Jose has been auctioning off “spending a day with him at his South Florida home for $2500 ($3500 if you bring a guest) for quite some time now. I think we can try and scrounge up a couple thousand bucks and ask those hard-hitting questions everyone’s always wanted to know. Who’s with me? I said who’s with me? Anyone? Well here’s the questions anyway, (and since we’re on a reading out loud kick, try & imagine these questions being asked by Bob Costas”)
“What was that thing on you upper lip in your 1986 Donruss Rated Rookies Card?”
“Can I see your court-ordered ankle-bracelet?
“How many times has Madonna changed her cell number on you?”
“Why did you decide to hit 46 Home runs for the Blue Jays in 1998?”
“Has your twin brother Ozzie ever been thrown out of a bar because they thought he was you?”
“Can we re-create the time when you played bumper cars with real cars with your ex-wife?”
We’re taking suggestions, too.
Hey OK, this is a music column so I thought I should at least mention 5 hip-hop songs out right now you should downlo..–I mean have in rotation.
Redman-The Saga Continues
Young Gunz feat Beanie Sigel-Roc U
Royce the 5’9-Hip Hop
Obie Trice feat Nate Dogg, Jadakiss and Redman-The Set Up Remix
Kayne West-All Falls Down
I’m no writer of the year like Aaron Cameron, but get at me on Yahoo IM: nicksalemi
General Haberdashery
Sadly, the 411 Music consecutive columns streak came to an end. After 19 straight filled-to-the-brim news reports, Smilo was unable to answer the call for an even 20. He’s working behind the scenes on the 411 Fantasy Baseball League, so we’ll give him a pass, though. Cocozza, on the other hand, didn’t even bother to call ahead to cancel his Wednesday reservation. His credit card was charged, anyway.
I had hoped all this consistency would’ve gotten a frickin’ bone thrown our way in the form of a Zone of the Week mention by Widro in his column, but we’ve been ignored…like those 50 copies of From Justin to Kelly at your local Blockbuster.
So, seriously…f*ck you, Widro. However, I’d still like to appear on your “Hot Seat” feature. How’s next week work for you?
Once again, The Minority Report proves why we’re the best weekend super group since Captain Caveman’s Teen Angels captured the nation’s hearts every Saturday morning from 1977 to 1980. Fernandez plays the role of “Brenda Chance”, the clear-thinking brunette. He has news on 50 Cent’s 2004 political aspirations (no lie) and guest appearances from Mr. Metal Head, Brian J. Blottie, along with that jackbooted Gestapo, Jon-Jon Widro.
Meanwhile, Canadian T has more brains than “Taffy Dare”. In fact, I dare say he’s Canada’s finest product since Quebec’s Colorado Avalanche brought the Stanley Cup to America.
…and me, token Black chick, “Dee Dee Sykes”. I got a hundred bucks that says she’s funnier than Wanda.
Read the rest of the Music Zone, too. We’re like that tasty gel at the bottom of a can of Spam.
All I Need Is One Mic Link
Mathan’s latest is just another example of why I love this guy’s work. Read him now, so you can say you knew him when…
Junk Mail
Here’s a quick bit of advice for all you aspiring Internet columnists out there…if you want feedback, put a picture of yourself somewhere in your material. Last week’s images of me n’ my kid were the equivalent of a 3-0 meatball to Barry Bonds for my readers. And, much like Barry, y’all stuck a needle in your ass and swung for the fences.
You officially can’t get into a 411mania, Hyatte-inspired beef with anyone online. We saw you all cuddly. It’s hard to talk trash after that. – Bigg Don
I thought you were kidding about the shape and size of your head all these months. Man, you could tape that baby to your forehead and still see your eyebrows. – Micah S.
Are you Somalian? – Tirhas H.
At least you can say you look better than (Scott) Keith. – thagr8one
You are funny. Why no pics of wifey? Are you from Kenya? – Matt F.
Hey nice hooded sweatshirt. Do you know any other high school sophomores with kids? – Oscar
Ah, my readers…
Life With Baby Bootleg
Kid Cameron finally cracked the four-pound threshold this week, which puts him just 2 1/2 pounds shy of the weight of my wife’s left breast. Speaking of my lactating maiden, her and I paid a late evening hospital visit to see the child this past Monday. He’s still residing in the NICU, which basically is intensive care for newborns.
Me n’ Mrs. Bootleg have to wear ID bracelets which tell the nursing staff we’re our son’s parents and allows us to stay at his side for as long as we want. Jalen is still trying to perfect the finer points of suckling from the teet, so the wife asked for a “privacy screen” to allow the kid to fumble with her medicine ball-sized breast in peace.
With the kid positioned correctly (and goin’ to town, I might add), a nurse wanders over and asks to see our wristbands. Never mind that the kid has been drinkin’ Mrs. Bootleg’s moo juice for a good five minutes, now. I mean…are there serial breast-feeders running around the greater San Diego area that I don’t know about? Predatory women with swollen mammary glands who yearn to be gummed by unsuspecting infants?
Memo to the nursing staff: Once the nipple is actually in the mouth, it’s safe to say you’re watching a mother and a child…or Sinful Intrigue.
Mrs. Bootleg’s Quote of the Week
“It feels better when I sit upright, but I was hurting all night long.” – 3/4/04
Was the wife talking about sweet panda love…? Nope. Last Saturday was her baby shower. She brought home tons of infant crap and the remnants of an 80-pound cream-frosted cake. The wife couldn’t be bothered to refrigerate the chocolately carcass and three days later, she was still eating off of it.
See, the funny thing about cream-based frosting is that when it turns bad (as it does pretty quickly at room temperature) the sickening amounts of sugar usually cover up the taste…but not its bacterial effects. Mrs. B was doubled over and cramping up for about 36 hours and you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a woman working a breast pump from the fetal position.
25 more shopping days until my birfday. Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13
