Letters from Freakloud! The Fourth Finger of Death….

I apologize in advance for the brevity, and in hindsight for the tardiness of this presentation…

I spent way too much time this weekend doing shit that wasn’t writing, and instead of cramming out a column on Sunday night as usual, I fell asleep reading a Robert Anton Wilson book. You should try never to do that, you’ll dream of one-eyed pyramids and ancient sex-rituals. If you were even slightly interested in the latter result, just remember that there was a time in humanity when people thought that they would get closer to God by having sex with animals. Nasty-ass Gnostics, but we’ll get into that another time…

The reason for the brevity is that I just found out today that I have a show to rock tomorrow. The promoter had the dates f*cked up so I gotta pull a show out of my ass before 9pm tomorrow night. Unfortunately for you, I’ve got to save some angst for the stage. Next week it’ll be blind hatred as usual.

With that said…let’s go.


So I was snooping around the smellier corners of the net looking for more news about wack rappers being in trouble with the law (did y’all peep the Xzibit piece?), a task made infinitely more difficult since Cameron scooped me on the Lil’ Kim conviction, when I found this piece of shit…

1. Common and Talib Kweli ghostwrite for Diddy. Several months after his Vote Or Die campaign, sources tell SOHH.com that Diddy is apparently looking to express his new penchant for politics on his next album. Puff has enlisted the services of socially aware emcees Common and Talib Kweli to pen some of his material. Meanwhile, rapper/producer Kanye West is on board to produce several tracks for Puff’s new project, which is currently in the works. The record is reportedly Diddy’s last solo album.
This had better be bullshit. If it’s not then I’m afraid for myself. I obviously don’t know which way is up anymore. Let’s assume for a minute that it’s true. If it is, we can count on at least two things:

One…I’m going to start projectile vomiting…uncontrollably. I wish that I was just bullshitting and that I didn’t have this intense of an emotional connection to certain MC’s. But I do. I gagged a little but when I first read the paragraph….

Two…after I rinse my mouth out and wipe off my PC, I’ll verbally express my disgust in that week’s column. And you know what’ll happen after that? Somebody’s gonna jump to their defense. Someone’s gonna write me a whiny e-mail talking about how it’s okay because he’ll list them in the writing credits or that the message is all that matters and the fact that it’ll be reaching more people is all that matters. To you sir, or ma’am, whomever you are, I say to you pre-emptively…eat a dick-sandwich You are everything that’s wrong with the world.

Honeslty, I don’t care what the hell Kanye does and I’ve known that Kweli is an ass-clown since I witnessed an incident in St. Louis (I’ll tell it, but only if I’m begged…)

But Common?


Not my hometown hero. Not the man who ripped Ice Cube a new donut-hole. Not the brother that once berated an unseen MC for “rappin’ like a n*gga with his nipples pierced”.

Unacceptable…UNACCEPTABLE, I say!

Do people just like sign their artistic integrity away at A&R meetings? Is that like a clause in the contract that I don’t know about? It must be. Because these fools AMAZE me with the shit that they are able to do without suffering from even the mildest form of cognitive dissonance.

And why the hell can’t Puffy write a conscious rhyme his gott-damned self? You mean to tell me that this clown has to have somebody else write how he feels about his own people? If you’re gonna make a conscious record, just put them on it…

Waitaminnut, I just though of something…Has Puffy ever worked with another producer in his life? Hmmmmm….all of the sudden this thing wreaks of bull guano. Puffy seems far too egotistical to concede that another producer might be better than him. Matter of fact, if he wasn’t writing the rhymes OR making the beats, why the hell would he even need to be there?

Well, I hope it’s bull, but there are two reasons that I can’t dismiss it completely:

One…This is the site that broke news of the Game and 50 having beef weeks before other sites got up on it. They had it so much earlier than everyone else that I thought it was bullshit so I didn’t post it.

Two…There is a long history of phenomena in hip-hop that I thought were just bad jokes that turned out to be the darkest of nightmarish realities…see Lil’ Jon, Juvenile, Master P and others…

Oh well, f*ck them I wanna write about some happy shit…


In this portion of my column, I’ll give you people a peek into my private affairs. I’ll give you one reason every week why the new lady in my life…just…might…be…the ONE.

This week’s episode…

Mutual interests

We both have an affinity for a certain masked wrestler that goes by the name of Doom. So much so that even in my darkest of moods, she can press the glee button by quoting some lyric of his that is appropriate at the time.

How could I even pretend to be bitter about some shit when she looks me in the eye and says…

“Take it from the dude who wear a mask like a ‘tarded helmet”

Folks, I am officially twitterpated…


A home of mine who lives in Texas now read last week’s WSMBTO and felt compelled to give me a peek into how her love life has been going since she arrived in the lone star state…

On why dating in Dallas is disastrous!:
Scene: **FIRST** DATE . In a bar.

Him: So tell me where you are at mentally,
spiritually, and physically?
Me: Ummm, ok.
(I chitty-chat about myself for a minute touching base
on the mental and spiritual parts of the question.)
Him: Ok, ok, cool…I’m feelin’ that. But what about
Me: Where am I physically? (intentionally
misinterpreting the question) I’m here with you.
(smiles warily)
Him: No, no, I mean…here, let me give you an example.
I’m 5’11, brown-skinned, and *well*-built-
Me: Well yeah, I can see that. What’s the point in my
doing that if I’m sitting right here in front of you?

Him: You weren’t feelin’ me when I said ‘well-built’.
(waits for the blank expression on my face to
disappear). What I mean is…I have a really big dick.
Me: Allll-righty then. Good for you. (starts looking
for the bartender)
Him: So how about you? Just *how* big are dem tig ole
bitties of yours?
Me: Check please!

And yes…this really happened.

Jeeesh…sorry, miss S.

Folks, this is proof that if you’ve got somebody, you’d better by-gid hold on to ’em. You DON”T wanna go back to this.

If the guy in this scenario is you, please stop. The little bit of low-self-esteemed cooch that you get from this approach is not worth your good name.


Well that about does it for me,

One more thing that I though you guys might enjoy…

Me and one of my homies formed a rap duo called Parts Unknown. Last weekend, we wrote and recorded a joint called Natural Disasters. In it, I play Tugboat and my homie plays Earthquake. The song is about ‘Quake tryin’ to convince Tug to come to the darkside and turn heel. It’s a poignant Anakin to Vader moment and I want to share some of the lyrics with you before I bounce…

Me: You be doin’ shit that’s illegal/
And I don’t even feel evil/
I ain’t no Typhoon, TYPHOONS KILL PEOPLE!

Him: So do earthquakes, jerk face so we’re equal/
Me and you together the weather is sheer lethal/
Two disasters togther you know, like a peer group/
A change for the better…

Me: ….Man, I ain’t tryin to hear you/
But my career’s through if I don’t start bubblin’ harder/
But f*ckin’ with you is like the Sheik runnin’ with Slaughter/
Maybe go does want me to trouble the waters…?

Him: Who’s checking for you, Vince his son or his daughter?

And we rocked it over the beat to Rainy Dayz from Raekwon. Not only is it eery, but it’ got vocals of that Blue Raspberry chick singing “the rain is changing, my man is going insane…”

Classic material, bitches.

Look out for the mixtape comin’ soon.

And if you’re in the LA Area Tuesday night, check me at Lyric’s in San Bernardino. I’m curtain jerkin’ but them’s the breaks…

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