But, before we begin:
(Name withheld) comes off like a know-it-all, yet provides very little interesting analysis or relevant content. He tries to come off being funny and entertaining, but fails on both accounts. -Steven “Coach” Coogan, IP Movies Editor (from the NEW Staff Forum, 08.13.04)
And y’all thought the “I” in “IP” stood for “Inside”…
Welcome back to The Bootleg. Six months ago, my wife took a leave of absence from work to stay at home with our newborn son. As most of y’all know, he was born nine weeks premature and required a little more care and attention than your average baby.
Mrs. Bootleg has been nothing short of spectacular, Baby Bootleg is doing great and this week, my wife went back to work.
August 16 had been circled on her calendar for months. We had set up day care for the kid (mere minutes away from the wife’s job) and everything was pretty much put in place for Mrs. Bootleg to rejoin the rat race. Keep in mind, that once her maternity leave and disability ran out, she wasn’t getting paid.
I guess I should’ve realized that something was wrong when she informed me that she’d be taking a vacation day on the 16th and working half days on the 17th and 18th. Somewhere in here is a Bernie Mac stand-up routine, but trust me on this one…only a Black woman could miss over 25 weeks of work and on her first day back…ask for it off.
So, this past Tuesday, Mrs. Bootleg finally returned to work. And even though I work about two miles from our house, I drove nearly 20 miles south that morning, so that I could be with my wife when we handed off our first-born child to a child care provider that may or may not have appeared on 60 Minutes the week before.
By the way, new mothers hate that joke. Let’s just say I…know.
The wife was surprisingly strong and didn’t shed a tear, which, in hindsight, should’ve been clue #2 that something was up. I got home from work that day and found the wife curled up on the couch, gazing out the window.
She either had something on her mind or just had a stroke, but there was half of a Baja Fresh burrito in the fridge that surely wouldn’t be microwaving itself. I was barely two bites into my dinner, when she dropped it on me:
“I think I only want to work part time.”
That’s right…”part time”. As in “part time” salary, no holiday pay and no more benefits. Now, most of us are willing to overlook these things when it comes to the chubby girl at Hot Dog on a Stick who churns the lemonade each hour, but not me.
Did the fact that my wife initiated this conversation on leftover take-out burrito night even register with her? Should I have Xeroxed the “buy one, get one free” coupon I used just to hammer the financial point home?
I bit my tongue, though, and just rode it out. The following day, she asked me if there was anyway I could parlay my writing into some additional household income.
I’m a music news writer for a professional wrestling website.
There’s only one kind of writing that those of us on Inside Pulse will ever be able to turn into cold, hard cash:
Dear Bank Teller…I have a gun…Put all the money in this bag and don’t hit the alarm or slip in a dye pack…
The Goodness begins…now.
Elvis…Was A Hero To Most, But He Never Meant Sh*t To Me
Just when you think the human race has progressed beyond the bigotry and ignorance of yesteryear…stories like this come along and shake us back to reality. The Miller Brewing Company has teamed with Rolling Stone magazine to celebrate the 50th Anniversary of Rock and/or Roll.
As part of their marketing campaign, limited edition cans of Miller’s “beer” are emblazoned with images of rock icons like Elvis Presley, Bon Jovi and Alice Cooper. At issue is the unfortunate omission of Black contributors to the rock music movement, such as James Brown and Chuck Berry.
Sorry, but I’ve gotta side with Miller on this one. “The Godfather of Soul” and that whole spousal abuse “situation” isn’t something that should be associated with beer. Although, somehow the combination worked on Cheers with Norm Peterson and his fictitious wife, Vera. Norm, in fact, “killed” Vera in a rage at the end of season five, along with Shelly Long’s better judgment.
And as detailed during Back to the Future, it was actually Michael J. Fox, not Chuck Berry, who ushered in the African-American era of rock n’ roll. Why, even today, Fox is still shaking and swaying and shimmying in perfect time with the…hey, wait…how come I don’t hear any music?
Crockett and Tubbs and Diddy
How slow has the music news been lately? Apparently, rappers moving to Miami is what passes for “stop the presses” these days. Our friends over at MTV dedicated the top story on their website to the exodus of entertainers from New York (including P. Diddy, Beyonce; and Usher) who’ve recently bought homes in Florida that this week’s hurricane didn’t destroy.
Not surprisingly, the puff piece cites the lure of the nightlife and all the beautiful people while failing to discuss the summer air one could cut with a knife. And speaking of justifiable homicide, we haven’t even covered the cadre of newlyweds and Cocoon 3 casting call of “nearly-deads” who infest the city limits like some unholy union between Jessica Simpson’s Nick Lachey and Peter Parker’s Aunt May.
The real reason for all the U-Haul trucks on 20-inch rims is that Florida has no state income tax. And, if there’s one thing millionaires love…it’s saving a few bucks. But, all these New Yorkers had better hurry. I imagine beachfront property is going to be hard to come by once the next number five starter for the Yankees washes ashore.
Long Before The Superdome…
In just a few short months, thousands of prospective men and women will vie for the fourth American Idol championship and the chance for fame and fortune. Unless, of course, you’re not a sandbag-shaped singer from Texas. In that case, you might land an appearance on Soul Train and a chance at the show’s famous word scramble.
Anyways…past seasons of Idol have proven to be popular with C-list musical acts barely hanging on to the fringes of the industry and this year’s no different. Kiss bassist Gene Simmons will be a celebri…oh, come on, this isn’t 1973 anymore. Let’s just say he’ll be a “guest” judge during the New Orleans auditions for Idol in 2005.
He’ll actually be taping his segment next month, as the Fox phenomenon is expected to attract close to 15,000 hopefuls from across the Bayou. With all those people taking the day off work to try out, now might be as good a time as any to sell whatever Popeye’s Chicken stock you might have.
Oh, listen to me prattle on. I’ve actually got nothing but love for…New Orleans! Home of pirates, drunks and whores. New Orleans! Tacky, overpriced souvenir stores…
If you want to go to hell, you should take a trip
To the Sodom n’ Gomorrah of the Mississip’
From Britney to Bobby
Britney Spears is planning to cover Bobby Brown’s 1988 smash hit My Prerogative. The track will be recorded for her upcoming “Greatest Hits” collection, which is scheduled to drop on November 16.
There’s no word at this time if Britney plans on covering any other songs by Whitney’s supplier, but if she does, I think we all know which one it has to be. Think Ghostbusters 2. Y-Y-Ya know it.
Actually, ol’ Bobby is proof of how quickly we forget. Sixteen years ago, you didn’t have to be attractive to be a sex symbol. Hell, Bull Durham somehow convinced a nation that Tim Robbins’ mother was hotter than fish grease.
And speaking of obscenely overrated Kevin Costner movies, am I the only red-blooded heterosexual male who didn’t like Field of Dreams? I’m willing to suspend disbelief, but only to a point.
I could accept the disembodied voice in the cornfield. Maybe someone would destroy their farm to build a baseball diamond. Hell, I’ll even look the other way when the filmmakers had the “Shoeless” Joe Jackson character throw with the wrong hand. But, James Earl Jones…as a Black baseball fan in modern times? Such a creature just doesn’t exist.
I Moved Here From Fargo and They Think I’m Slow, Eh?
Now, I’m not trying to say that Fargo, North Dakota is on the outskirts of society, but the locals tell me that Joaquin Phoenix is still waiting for “Ivy” to come back with his goddam medicine. Misery loves company, apparently, as the citizens of Fargo were victims of a ticket scam.
And at the heart of the controversy, to the surprise of no one, is Lil’ Jon. See, a con man who went by the name “Peter Schwartz” bilked fans out of nearly $12,000 by selling tickets to a Lil’ Jon concert that was never going to happen.
Wow. I mean, this is like, “your city buys a Monorail from Lyle Lanley” kind of stupid. Face it, Fargo…your town had its 15 minutes of infamy with the release of The Coen Brothers’ 1996 masterpiece.
And imagine my disappointment, years later, when I discovered that Steve Buscemi somehow survived the wood chipper incident and is still making movies. Oh, wait, I forgot…he was in Reservoir Dogs so he gets a lifetime pass from you people. Even for Spy Kids 2 & 3? Man, I gots to get me one of those.
Sometimes The News Just Writes Itself
The sophomore album of Brooklyn rapper Shyne debuted at #3 on the Billboard Charts this week. Unfortunately, anyone seeking comment from the imprisoned lyricist is sh*t outta luck.
Last weekend, Shyne’s phone privileges were indefinitely revoked over concerns that he’s violated nearly every telecommunication policy throughout the Tupac Memorial Wing of the Clinton Correctional Facility. However, the greatest concern appears to be the 50 Cent diss track For The Record, which Shyne allegedly recorded over an in-prison pay phone.
Christ, this whole thing sounds like a rejected storyline from the sixth season of Oz, which, as you know, never happened. Seriously though, I wonder how Shyne’s dating life has been affected by his imprisonment? Do you think he still has access to writeaprisoner.com?
What? You’ve never heard of them?
It’s the place to find inmates like the appropriately named Andrea Shanks. Race means nothing to her fellas. Or maybe you prefer Missouri’s own Betty Coleman? Remember, she was only an accessory to murder! And we can’t forget the ladies…but, only the white ones! M’man John Camacho likes his snowflakes thicker than six steaks!
Thanks to some longtime Friends of the Bootleg at the World Famous V.I.P. Records in my hometown of Long Beach, CA, I have not one, not two, but three new n’ never opened copies of Snoop Dogg, Nate Dogg and Warren G’s new album 213-The Hard Way.
They’re all up for grabs, so if you want one, just drop me an email. Ah, but there’s a catch. You’ll need to nominate a September inductee for the MFWNTAK list. Don’t know what that is? Scroll down a few feet. The best ones get the CD.
Contest ends this Sunday, 8.22.04 at midnight (eastern daylight time).
conceptualized by Nick Salemi
Back in 1997, when Late Night With Conan O’Brien was slowly emerging as the best thing on late night TV, a character debuted on the show named Triumph the Insult Comic Dog.
The creation of Robert Smigel, Triumph’s raunchy act wasn’t quite ready for prime time with his lowbrow humor and signature faux compliments of Conan’s guests as being talented followed by his signature line, “For me to poop on!” Finally a DVD documenting his greatest hits has been released, The Best of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog.
If you’re not familiar with his antics, I believe a statement from the real lawsuit of now-defunct pets.com against Smigel (and Triumph?) from a few years back sums it up pretty well:
“Triumph is a rubber-dog that … regularly uses vulgarity, insults both the humans and other dogs around him and often conducts physical attacks of a sexual nature on female dogs,”.
They were talking about a puppet, mind you. (For the whole story behind the lawsuit check the DVD)
Audiences, it seemed couldn’t get enough of his crude insults intertwined with dog humor. For example, when interviewing Richard Hatch, winner of Survivor, Triumph says,
“I really enjoyed you watching you walk around naked, usually I have to eat grass if I want to puke!”
It got to a point where I used to keep a blank tape in the VCR at all times in the event that Triumph might be on.
Before you knew it, he’s on the MTV awards exchanging words with Jennifer Lopez and Eminem, releasing his own CD, truly cementing himself a star in his own right.
If you’re a fan of the show you’ve probably seen most of the segments on the DVD, which at first glance, looks alarmingly short at just over 60 minutes. Most of the classic moments are there, including Triumph’s commentary at the Westminster Dog Shows, his trip to a Bon Jovi concert and the infamous segment when he visits the fans outside the premiere of Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones (or as Triumph puts it, “Return of the Dorks”).
Triumph is always hysterical but the people he encounters have to be seen to be believed. It must be said that both Bon Jovi and the Star Wars fans take the ribbing especially well, which makes it even funnier.
My fears of the disc being too short were quelled with extras that clock in at about 90 additional minutes. Hardcore fans will notice that some of the segments in the extras have been clipped slightly, certainly not enough to take away from a being a great disc. (Not sure why, possibly time constraints) I wish they could have charged a couple more dollars and thrown in a second disc and covered everything, but that’s just me.
If you’re a fan of Triumph it’s a must have. Oh Yessss, by the way the Bootleg is a pretty good column. For me to poop on!
Earlier this week, Widro Grabowski reported that Inside Pulse received over one million page views in its debut week. A very impressive total, to be sure, and it only cost the site $1,000 to buy you guys off.
That’s less than a penny per page view and cheaper than the foreign boy IP had planned to sponsor. (Sorry, little Scotty…it sounds like it’s back to foraging for food with that pack of Dingos that have raised you since birth.)
Fernandez has 411’s Movie Joe Reid on the Jukebox, along with the True Hollywood Story behind the Music Zone’s traitorous defection to IP and the final fate of Warren Woo.
Gloomchen tells how you can like a band, after not liking them, yet still not be able to explain why you like them now or didn’t like them then. Show us your boobs.
Botter downloads legally and calls 99% of rap music “mindless”. On an unrelated note, look for his in-depth analysis of the Kane-Jeff Hardy-Lita wedding angle next week!
Mathan is just the man. Another great column from my favorite music writer as he shows us that every song has a story. And the identity of Bucky the Badger is revealed! It was me, Austin! It was me all along! (And Jalen thanks his Uncle Math for the kid-friendly CDs of goodness).
Tommy D. debates soundtracks and some guy named Dave Mustaine. The format actually works, even though I have no idea who they’re talking about.
Remember, kids: Movie news is unimportant, because there are so many people who do it better than you. And look, here’s one of them now. Why, it’s Movie Joe Reid and The Best of the Friday Happy Hour! Beginning to end ass-kickery and all without any formal coaching from the peanut gallery.
That’s right…the links to 411 won’t end, so when you’re done here, get Grown and Sexy with Tayo. At least until we sign him away.
We already signed him.
Muthaf*ckas Who Need They Ass Kicked, August 2004
Last week, I promised that I would tally up the votes from the latest round of reader’s balloting in the MFWNTAK inductions. In covering the last several weeks, I didn’t expect anyone to stand out from the pack by such a wide margin.
How wrong I was.
This month’s Readers’ Choice Inductee pulled in nearly three times the votes of the next nearest contender. You can now find his exhibit nestled next to Nicole Richie and Jason Kidd’s alien spawn, both of whom were inaugural members back in May.
Ladies and gentlemen…show your love for Sean Hannity. A random sampling of your comments:
Painting houses doesn’t make you a political scholar. Another f*cking moron with too much mouth and not enough brain. R.B.
Please put (Hannity) in your kick his ass hall of shame. I almost wanted to suggest everyone from the “fair and balanced” Fox News Network, but this guy beats them all. Sadly, he’s young enough to still breed. -L.N.
Here’s a non-hip hop dark horse for you: Sean Hannity. He’s the smarmy epitome of those Abercrombie & Fitch bitches who had everything handed to him and then wonders why no one’s willing to work hard or earn their way. -J.K.
Guys like (Hannity) are the reason why partisan politics have devolved into such a mess. Facts get f*cked as long as your telegenic and speak for the privileged. If you and Nick beat him down, I’ll put $20 towards your bail. -M.A.
Welcome to the club, Sean!
Last week’s column generated the most Bootleg feedback in recent memory. Thanks again to all the readers who followed me from 411 and to those of y’all who might’ve been reading for the first time.
Those Lil’ Kim pics were just nasty. What happened to her? I mean, it’s not like she was ever that cute to begin with. But, like an 8-car pile up, I have to see more. Got link? -D.D.
You guys…don’t say you weren’t warned. As far as what happened, I don’t have the slightest clue. My theory is that as she became more of a crossover MTV caricature (titty out like whut/I don’t give a f*ck”), she felt obligated to conform to a more, uh, “less ethnic” sense of beauty standards. And God is pissed.
I don’t know how you’re allowed to keep spewing your ignorance when it comes to Ms. Kimberly (Lil Kim) Jones. Do successful women intimidate you? Do attractive women intimidate you? As a Black man, I’d expect you to show more love for your people. -P.T.
Holy Lord, this is rich. So, I’m not Black enough because I don’t support a woman with blonde hair, green eyes and a nose job who shills for Old Navy in her spare time? Yeah, she’s the regular epitome of ebony, brutha.
Hey, I read in your column that everyone who bought a CD in the last ten years will get a refund. This can’t be true, can it? And if it is true, can you guys send me more information? -F.M.
Ah, you must be referring to last week’s Nick’a Please segment, where he addressed the record industry settlement. Well, to you and the four or five others that asked, you can get more details and your eventual payout by sending a claim here.
Tell him Matthew Michael sent you.
It’s been two weeks since the great 411/IP split. Since then, I’ve seen a lot of your signature phrases, format and subject matter appear in other people’s 411 columns. Any comment, or is 411-bashing verboten on InsidePulse? -R.P.
C’mon…if you were gonna emulate someone, wouldn’t it be the 2003 Music Staffer of the Year? Which reminds me: I need to set aside some time to train my Dog to fetch my trophy polish. If only she’d quit humping my damn leg.
Life With the Bootleg Family
Those of you with kids probably know that most new parents spend the bulk of the first few months of “child time” just staring. Sure, there are diapers that need to be changed and drool that needs to be wiped, but unlike with KRS-One and Goldie Hawn, these activities are secondary to the amount of time you’ll just sit and look at your child.
Oftentimes, all that free time and dead air produces some of the most inane, yet insightful discussions imaginable.
In this case, the wife and I were playing the part of peeping toms, while Kid Cameron slept, when the wife asked about the possibility of getting the kid an earring. Then, almost immediately acknowledging the absurdity of such an idea, she quickly rebutted her own thought:
I think the ‘ghetto’ outweighs the ‘cuteness’ on that one, though.
And, while we’re at it, here are a few other things that fall into that ‘more ghetto, than cute’ category. Remember, parents…I ain’t hating, I’m just stating:
The Tail: About a decade or so ago, I remember that every urban child between the ages of 5 and 10 was sporting a shaved head, with a little braided tail of hair in the back. I wasn’t in much of a position to talk, since Patrick Ewing and I were the only two bruthas still rocking flat-tops in 1994, but now I can speak my mind.
Parents…this is not a good look…unless little Johnny’s career aspirations include Sherpa.
Baby Timberlands: Now, I know that everyone wants their kids to look good. But, name brand shoes for an infant run about the cost of dinner for two at Chili’s. (Especially, when your wife wants an appetizer, an entree and a different dessert from you and still only takes two bites from her brownie sundae because all of a sudden she’s too full…hypothetically speaking.)
Anyways, my folks wrapped my feet in sandwich bags and electrical tape until I was seven or eight. Then, peer pressure started in. Regardless, Jalen won’t be in Reeboks, until he outgrows his Zip-Locs.
Movies: Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know that my people are loud in the theater. I know that we often come late. And I know that we let our cell phone novelty chimes go off for five minutes before we actually answer the damn thing.
But, the one thing that still causes me to shamefully shrink into my seat…when y’all bring Baby Dashiki to a 10:55 PM showing of anything.
If you’re interested in or currently writing for another site, make sure you steal as much of my format and phrases as possible. Get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM: ajcameron13