I mean, it’s not like you go out in The Bootleg all “Well, this weekend, I went to the market. I bought some Frosted Flakes. Haven’t had those in awhile. I’ve switched to 2% milk. My girlfriend’s a bitch. I need new shoes. Now . . . Music!”
-411’s Joe Reid on Music Writers who don’t write about music…you bastards.
Welcome back to The Bootleg. Last I checked, San Diego was the seventh largest city in America. We’ve got something like 2.8 million people all totaled together in a sea of diversity, under eternal sunshine and 70 degrees.
Of course, it’s only about an hour drive to the mountains, if skiing is your thing. In even less time, you can travel east and reach the deserts (for all y’all lusting for some spontaneous combustion). And, it goes without saying, that you’re no more than 15 minutes from any beach in the county.
So, how come I have to drive forever to find a McDonald’s?
On my way into work last Saturday, I had a hankerin’ for that combination of cured pork n’ pancake known as the McGriddle. Amongst the locals, this is a most divisive desayuno. Some people hate it, but if you’re wont to dine on the swine, it ain’t half bad…which, by definition makes it the best thing on their breakfast menu board.
Now, our closest Mickey D’s is a 15 minute drive on surface streets or three exits south on the freeway. Along the way, you’ll pass every member of the fast food family from French Fries to fish tacos…but, the biggest brand name in the glut of greasy bags can’t be had without quite the hike.
All I wanted was a McGriddle Extra Value Meal.
Seemed like a simple enough request as I pulled into the drive-thru. And, sure enough, they had Extra Value Meals for the sausage, egg n’ cheese and bacon, egg n’ cheese McGriddles. But, what of those of us who prefer our pigs plain like Lil’ Kim without makeup? Alas, there apparently is no Extra Value for us…as I would soon discover when I spoke into the speakerboxxx The Love Below:
“Can I get a sausage McGriddle Extra Value Meal with an orange juice?”
I felt like quite the fool for referring to fast food so formally and the fact that I didn’t call out my order by number (“gimmie a number 12!”) confused and confounded the kid with the Britney Spears “live” performance hands-free headset intertwined into her weave and hair net.
As I pulled forward, the words “egg” and “cheese” appeared on the newfangled digital drive-thru display. At the window, I sought reassurance from a 16-year-old that there’d be nothing but sausage on my sammich:
“I’m sorry…this is the window where you pay. You can check your order when you pick it up at the next window.”
Well, then. Apparently, I need a refresher in McManners.
I get my grub and it ain’t what I wanted. My mistake was telling them this. After I explained the concept of “plain”, I was told that there was no solely sausage McGriddle meal on the menu:
“So give me what you gave me, but without egg and cheese on it.”
They can’t do that, either. But, I could order each item (sammich, hash browns, juice) separately. After all this drive-thru drama…here’s where it all goes horribly wrong. And, what a shock…it all begins with Mrs. Bootleg.
She called me on my cell to ask about…well, something significantly less important than the issue at hand. But, for a minute, she had successfully altered my attention. So much so, that I was back on the freeway before the thought crossed my mind: did I check the bag before I blew outta there?
Orange juice…check. Hash browns…check. Sausage…McMuffin. With egg and cheese.
F*ck.
So, tell me again why Black folk keep eating there?
And, while The Goodness is your side of syrup this week, we’re taking next week off to celebrate Canada Day with a poutine platter at Scott Keith’s crib. See y’all on July 8th.
Now What Will Get Me Through the Weekend?
Friday, June 24, 2005 was supposed to be a blessed day. Lil’ Kim was scheduled to be sentenced for her perjury conviction and all would be right with the world. Unfortunately, fate stepped in.
Remember when Cyril O’Reilly’s execution was temporarily delayed? I know, I know…that happened during the never-existed sixth season of Oz, but hear me out. Kim’s sentencing was postponed and no new date (or reason) was given.
So, now we’re expected to get on with our lives until a new date is set and expect the build-up and excitement to be duplicated? I’m tellin’ ya…these teases in the entertainment industry are good for no one. Don’t believe me? Show of hands: how many of you watched the entire season of Lost on ABC?
We sat through 22 episodes, with 22 minutes of commercials in each one and an eternity of the imminently uninteresting Jack and Kate quagmire. And, in the two-hour season finale, the loyal viewers get…nothing. But, that’s cool.
I’ll give ’em the first year to set up the questions, the second year to give us some answers and the third (and final) year to get ’em all off that island. The show’s fans will not be strung along the fringes of false hope for a fourth year.
Besides, these guys have already sold the sitcom rights to that concept.
What’s In a Name?
The BET network has teamed up with UPN actress and erstwhile rapper, Eve, in their AIDS awareness program campaign. Open Mic: My Thing will debut this Sunday and features stories on how teenagers and young adults are educating themselves and others on the important issues surrounding this deadly disease.
And, in a stroke of exploitation that could only be appreciated by fans of BET, where women are reduced to big-bootied background b*tches for the new Snoop video (does it look like I’m complaining?), the network found the son of the late Eazy-E to offer his thoughts on the matter.
Lil’ Eazy E (I’m not kidding) lost his father to AIDS just over 10 years ago. Sooo…not to be cruel or anything, but what else can Eazy, Jr. offer up besides that? The press release makes it seem like he’s going to be prominently featured, but how many of you even knew there was a Lil’ Eazy before you read this, besides Tayo, Phil and maybe Nick?
And, come on…Lil’ Eazy E? Are Black people really that pissed at Apple Paltrow’s mom for stealing our stake in the “worst name for a child” award in 2004?
Mathan Erhardt would not be pleased.
Make Mine Tang
Fresh off his heavily-hyped turn in the almost universally hated remake of The Longest Yard, Nelly has set his sights on an old endeavor. A few years back, the man known to fans as The St. Louis Speech Impediment was one of the first celebrities to get into the energy drink craze.
His Pimp Juice product has been just as huge a hit as any of his songs (and equally unexplainable). Now, it’s time for the next logical step: Pimp Juice Light or PJ Light, for short. And, for those of you looking to get in on the ground floor of the half-percent market share that Red Bull and Rockstar have left for all the other energy drink brands that attempt to blend cinnamon and urine as well as the originators have…well, you’re in luck.
Nelly is sponsoring a contest for fans to write the theme song for PJ Light. The grand prize is an audition with Nelly’s label, Derrty Entertainment. Where, of course, you won’t be offered a contract since you’re not one of the big star rapper’s boys from back in the day, like Eminem’s D-12, Tupac’s Outlawz or Nelly’s St. Lunatics.
So, at the end of the day, Nelly has the rights to your jingle and all you got was this lousy T-shirt Murphy Lee. Has it really been two years since Shake Ya Tailfeather was getting club turns around the world?
P. Diddy…Nelly…gee, who would’ve thought that Murphy Lee would be the one least likely to be around in 24 months? Didn’t see that coming.
Christ, Can’t We Kill Him Again?
Just when we thought that rumors of a final Tupac album dropping later this year would be the end of it all, it was revealed this week that there’s…more. The first full-length Tupac DVD should be on store shelves this September.
It highlights his performance at the legendary House of Blues in Los Angeles back on July 4, 1996. The DVD is expected to be another conspiring collaboration between Death Row Records and Pac’s equally money-grubbing mother, Afeni.
It’s expected to feature most, if not all of Tupac’s videos and, get this…an “exclusive” interview with gangster caricature, Suge Knight.
OK, first of all, there’s been bootleg(!) footage of that Pac/House of Blues show sold in swap meets for years. It actually featured most of the big names on the Death Row label at the time and Pac’s segment is maybe 20 minutes. Think of it as paying $19.95 for a Triple H promo, with that same all over shame when someone walks in on you and discovers “you watch that crap”.
Second, could someone tell Suge that no one’s afraid of him anymore? Between him and Mike Tyson, there are an awful lot of white folk out there who might be thinking the tide has turned in the urban street cred demographics.
West Side Story was just a movie, Emily. In real life, the Jets (or maybe it was the Sharks…whichever was the white group that gang-raped a young Rita Moreno) would’ve been jackbooted back to the ‘burbs.
Besides, recent events have shown us what happens when another creed’s culture is claimed as one’s own:
Sometimes the News Just Writes Itself…The Nick Salemi, Non-Music Version
Some of you may be aware of the entertainment spectacular about the evil about to be brought down upon unsuspecting citizens of Earth. No, not War of the Worlds. Didn’t you hear?
Pauly Shore has been given his own TV show.
In 2005.
Supposedly, “The show will blend the comedy on-stage at The Comedy Store with the quirky personalities and offbeat backstage antics of Pauly Shore and his mother, Comedy Store owner Mitzi Shore.” His mom owns the Comedy Store? Pardon me for being ignorant, but it makes a lot of sense now how this guy even got a chance to be famous.
Speaking of chances…
I don’t know about anyone else but, I’m still pretty violently ill from Encino Man, which set off the acting careers of BOTH Pauly Shore and Brendan Fraser, truly a Pandora’s box of horrendous. On top of that, Nastradamus never said ANYTHING about Son In Law, In the Army Now, Jury Duty and Bio-Dome coming out either.
Come to think of it, he did predict Armageddon, but just never said it would come in the form of a 5 picture deal. I can’t think of someone given 5 chances like that since Steve Howe. Anyway, prepare yourselves because it is now officially en vogue to be a previously forgotten about, questionably talented celebrity.
It’s really sad to see them own up to the fact that no one cares but, still hanging on and hoping that it will somehow re-start their dead career.
Maybe a world with Pauly Shore on cable television IS Armageddon and we just don’t know it.
Nick’a Please
conceptualized by Nick Salemi
Guru and Premier of Gangstarr are often referred to as the “essence of hip-hop”. Premier’s production has always been unwaveringly original and has never conformed to whatever is popular at the time or commercial. Guru has stayed true to his roots as well with solid skills and more importantly longevity in the game. For the record, Gangstarr is still together but the two have always done separate projects. Premier blessing other artists with his production has helped numerous rappers out there but Guru without Premier has always sounded a little off.
Guru’s latest is Version 7.0 The Street Scriptures. To me, Guru has always been the Dave Justice of hip-hop. An above average clutch player but, always part of championship teams, needing to be surrounded by a good supporting cast. The new album is produced entirely by Solar with somewhat mixed results.
The intro track No Time is nothing special, however it soon catches fire with False Prophets, Step in the Arena 2, Don Status feat Styles P and Hood Dreamin which sets the tone that this is going to be a hot disc. All these tracks are pretty nice. However, after Cave In, a decent old school sounding track the bottom falls out.
Surviving the Game finds Guru dropping lyrics over the now played out chipmunk sped up vocal sampling method (please give it a rest everyone) of Paul McCartney’s Live and Let Die. Hall of Fame is unnecessary, with Guru proclaiming on a corny hook “you need to put me in the hall of fame.†He’s already there and doesn’t need to say it, or make songs like this for that matter. Too Dark to See sounds no different Surviving the Game, except this time he raps over Bob Dylan’s sped up vocals from Knockin on Heaven’s Door. Has Guru only been listening to songs that Guns N Roses covered?
Power, Money and Influence featuring Jean Grae and Talib Kweli comes off well as all three MCs spit like there’s no tomorrow and gets the 7.0 back on track momentarily. Unfortunately Fa Keeps is pretty much the only other track that stands out. Not that the others are terrible but just not what you expect once you’re used to the heat he usually brings with Primo. It’s probably unfair to compare anyone to that kind of production anyway.
I can’t front on Guru as Moment of Truth is one of my favorite all time albums, and that alone (to say nothing of previous Gangstarr efforts) gets him a pass. However, I’d have to only mildly recommend this one but of course hardcore Guru and Gangstarr fans should pick it up. Think about it, how many hip-hop CDs have you picked up lately that have had more than 5 good songs on it? It’s still better than most of what’s out there.
General Haberdashery…Office Gossip Edition
I’m still getting feedback on the IP/411 Draft that Joe Reid and I wrote two weeks ago. But, who was the IP/411 draft choice who, this week, responded with a request to never be mentioned again in The Bootleg by name?
It wasn’t Fernandez, who offends a few hundred with his first picture and comes clean on his Communist connections with his second. But, it’s the third pic in his column that’ll have people talking…or didn’t you know that Monica Bellucci and the NBA Jam “Big Head” version of Jeff Fernandez were an item?
It wasn’t Gloomchen, who has been quite the outspoken Iowan behind the scenes as we put together our…nah, can’t tell ya. Meanwhile, she’s out to confirm her marriage to all things metal while detailing her devotion to Debbie Gibson. That, alone, has pushed her behind me in the metal coaches’ poll.
Shawn wasn’t drafted, but that’s only because this column wasn’t yet posted. Probably my second favorite piece of “Stuff” to date, as he explains his motivation for…what, you wanna know what my fave Ssquared column is? Two words: sea boogers. But, this one’s pretty damn good, too.
(And, this just in…Shawn’s latest is up for your perusal. He’s got a Dunkin’ Donuts reference in the opener, which I don’t get, because we don’t have those out here in Cali. Do they even sell donuts, anymore, or is it all just crappy coffee drinks?)
KDP writes the most compelling case for country music that I’ve seen since Jeff Jarrett’s With My Baby Tonight video. “Spend my days workin’ hard on the go…but the hands on the clock keep spinnin’ too slow and I can’t wait to be alone with my baby…etc.”
J.A.M. = the fourth in the line of short-lived novelty writing nicknames for a trio of Inside Pulse and 411 writers.
J is for Movie Joe Reid. He’s still on suspension from 411 for appearing in this column two weeks ago, but over at his blog it’s all Joe Reid: Unleashed! Play the Tom Cruise Caption Contest and be the first one to not make a reference to freakishly large ethnic penises.
A is for me.
M is Comic Book Mathan. Not even a cursory mention of his J.A.M. mates, as Math and Tim have created their own comic book collective. I think they’re calling themselves “Team Discovery Channel”. Don’t worry…by the first week in December, no one will have ever remembered them.
Junk Mail…Now with more Phil Watts
As much as I loves everyone who takes time out of their Fridays to be with The Bootleg, it’s always Carlito Caribbean cool when one of my peers drops me a line. M’man, Phil Watts has been holding down Thursdays over at 411mania, but he’s always quick to comment when something in The Bootleg pushes his buttons.
Today, Phil takes the Mutha F*ckas Who Need They Ass Kicked list and blends it with his usual bad ass bombast:
I read that list, and I’m kinda disappointed that it wasn’t longer and didn’t have THESE PEOPLE in it:
Marquis Houston: Who’d a thought that a member of the ABC/Kris-Kross ripoff group Immature would still have a career 15 YEARS LATER? He’s also one of the ‘stars’ of that ‘blockbuster hit’, YOU GOT SERVED, right along with…
Omarian: This fruit, who’s a former member of B2K, another hoe-ass R&B group, has been seen together with Marquis Houston so much that you’d think they were gay lovers! They probably are. If the word BITCHMADE was in the dictionary, it would have a picture of these two next to it.
Xzibit: I remember when the Wake Up Show would play this man’s shit TO DEATH, thinking that he’s the future of Hip-Hop. That was in 1996. Since then, he’s dumped the whole Likwit Crew in hopes that brown-nosing Dr. Dre would get him more exposure. He wound up becoming nothing but a HYPEMAN for Snoop, Eminem, and Fitty. Some exposure, huh? Now look at him.
“YOUR CAR JUST GOT HOOKED UP WITH A PS2, AN X-BOX, DVD PLAYER, A PC, A HOME THEATER…AND LOOK…IT’S GOT A WATER FOUNTAIN, TOO!!!!” Stupid M*thaf*cka!
The Black Eyed Peas: This needs no explanation…other than why you didn’t put them in your list!
Gwen Stefani: First off, this bitch sounds like a chipmunk. Second, when 50 Cent has bigger breasts than you, you should quit that skank-b*tch act!
Foxy Brown: This b*tch has all the clout of a used up porn star. Why Jigga would offer her a new deal with Def Jam is a mystery. I heard her in this song with them hoe-n*ggaz 112 sounding like she needs to use the bathroom.
Michael Savage: I hear this old-ass man on the radio talking about how Rap Music is really CRACK MUSIC, because rappers are nothing but crack dealers who only know 50 words in the English language. Matter of fact, he hates sports because he thinks that Basketball and Football are nothing but a bunch of rival gangs throwing balls instead of shooting each other. That’s how much of a kook Savage is. F*ck beating the sh*t out of him. I’d blast some M.O.P. in front of him and make him catch a heart attack!!
Life with the Bootleg Family
On Thursday, I ditched work so that the wife and I could enjoy an all too rare “date”. Of course, this isn’t like the dates that you meddling kids have. There’s no sex at the end or hand holding in the middle or awkward conversation over dinner reservations at the beginning.
Of course, it’s been awhile, so the assumed order of the above has likely changed.
Anyways, the Bootlegs opted for a little daytime baseball down at Petco Park…home of the San Diego Padres. And, on this day, it was apparently home to everyone else in San Diego.
The local nine were playing the Dodgers and I anticipated a packed house. With the game starting at 12:35 PM, I suggested to the wife that we might wanna hit the road around 11:00 AM. Without traffic, it’s about 30 minutes to downtown SD. On a day when 40,000 fans are added to the usual downtown dealings…
So, do you think the wife was ready when I got home?
Nope…she was curling her hair. For a baseball game. For a baseball game that she would be wearing a cap (OK, a visor) to.
We hit the road at 11:30 (I know, I know…but, I’m stuck with her) and Mrs. Bootleg is shocked to see brake lights starting to break out in each and every lane. She’s seemingly so stunned, that she can only offer up this omnipotent observation from the shotgun seat:
“Traffic is at a standstill.”
Thank you, Arnie Pye, our traffic eye in the sky.
While we’re only a mile or so away from the Park at this point, the next 30 minutes are spent spinning up and down the one way streets of downtown and their $20 parking garages gouges. Amazingly, we found a spot on the street that, while a million miles away, was free.
We missed the first two innings, but a good time was still had by both. And, on a personal note, I finally had the opportunity to try that Dippin’ Dots ice cream that’s all the rage throughout mall kiosks everywhere.
Awful.
Can anyone out there tell me what’s worse: the gummy texture is takes on once it’s been in your mouth for a minute or the fact that these subzero ball bearings might be the coldest thing ever conceived?
I could barely choke down two bites, but it still seemed like every nerve ending in my mouth was exposed to the icy bits of the bad Terminator that Ah-nold froze with liquid nitrogen near the end of Terminator 2: Judgment Day.
Wait a minute…that reference is, like, 15 years old. OK…same sh*tty ice cream…different Ah-nold movie. Remember his Mr. Freeze character in the inexcusable abomination known as Batman & Robin? He was all, “Stay cool, birdboy!” and “What killed the dinosaurs? The Ice Age!”
Remember how cold he was? Now, forget that and picture how you felt after watching that feculent film and you’ll know how my mouth feels.
We’ll see y’all in two weeks. Blow some sh*t up on the Fourth, but try’n keep all your fingers. Meanwhile, get at me on AOL or Yahoo IM at ajcameron13.
