The Reign of Blank-Blank has Begun

• Let's begin at the beginning, then, hey? Okay. So. American Gangster came out, and I was and remain embonered about the whole thing. The only thing that I thought was disappointing about it, really, was Lil Wayne's verse on "Hello Brooklyn 2.0." You know. Because it's not all east coast -sounding and super lyrical. But then I listened to it a bunch of times, and I decided that it's one of the best parts of the album. Wayne's part on it sounds like a Delta Blues singer performing with the New Power Generation. Or, you know, like Prince with a drawl. Also, the track so reinvigorated my love for "B-Boy Bouillabaisse" that I made this little thing. (What do you call these things? "Mashups?" What a dumb term.)



• Can't find anything to buy for Thee Famous Person - who doesn't "believe in" Christmas but still wants presents? If I was you, I'd try here.

• I converted pounds to dollars and, at press time, it'll cost me $39.62 apiece. But still. Don't think I'm not going to make the next Devil Himself mixtape (tentatively titled "Protected Everywhere") available on these bitches.

• Tadanori Yokoo? More like Radanori Yokoo.



• So. I've had this one post going for a couple of days now, because I saved it, and decided I would finish it at some point down the road. I decided today that today was the day, though, just so I could finish it with the new shit. (What? Yes.)

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• P.S. I don't actually own a gun.

• I think that my life changed for the better since I changed my ringtone to the opening lick from Gimme Shelter. Now every time I get a phone call it's like Martin Scorsese is directing a little moment of my day.

• This is the best still frame from a cartoon show. Ever. For so many reasons. But really just the one.

• I've been thinking that I should, by all accounts, address the passing of Norman Mailer. Since he actually wrote novels, whereas I sometimes write about writing novels. I came across this story that, I think, deals with Mailer's passing - as well with as the "death" of contemporary authors' striving for The Great American Novel - pretty well.

• It's getting cold outside, and that means it's the time of year for introspective gangsta rap songs that prominently feature pianos. This is "Kill My Dog" off of Cam'ron's new mixtape.



• Thank you, Drawn!, for providing me with a couple of other places to screw around on the internet for no reason.

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The Other Side of the A.M.

• Our Man Lamar was in town this weekend, sleeping days away on the air mattress in the center of my apartment and being rad and farting. It ruled. I just stayed up all night completing a Contemporary American Poetry paper. These things may well be connected.

• Lately Holotone hits me with random links on the IM connect. This one came through with zero explanation, but I think it's safe to say that this Michael K. Brandlow character is easily the most intense lawyer of all timez. He reminds me, somehow, of character actor Marshall Bell. Or maybe I just wanted to include a link to Marshall Bell because I spent so long figuring out what his name was. (Something about the only payoff of my, seriously, hours-long search being that you might click the Marshall Bell link and go "Oh yeah, that guy," is sort of pathetically hilarious to me.)

• So for some reason - well. Not for some reason. For reasons owing to my theory that the hottest women on Earth come from there, I think I need to take a trip to the Ukraine, which I'm calling the Ukraine and not just Ukraine, because it's way more James Bond to put the the in there. Anyway. I was looking around at, like, Ukrainian tourist destinations, and came across this place called Club Yo, which, sadly, has nothing at all to do with Ed Lover and Dr. Dre. On the website I was on - which somehow I can't find, even though I did manage to copy the following text - described this Club Yo as such:

" Musical club yo and bowling of 7 stars, is the uniform entertaining complex, located in the center Odessa and borrows one of in the lead places in entertaining industry in Ukraine club yo includes the dance floor, the stage, the sound . 10 Plasma panels and the light equipment of the european standard. the convenient furniture on two circles of the disco and the capacious bar rack, allows to lead comfortably evening up to 1500 visitors of club. Separately from the basic disco is available " disco bar " with the dancing on 150 person. Bowling of 7 stars has contained in itself two bar racks with greater assortment of drinks, 8 paths of firm " braunswick ", two billiard tables for the pool and one table for russian billiards. The convenient upholstered furniture promotes pleasant pastime. Kitchen also european."

Club Yo. I've never wanted to go anywhere as badly as I want to go to Club Yo.

• According to the Raichile, armed with this recipe, you could stay home and eat your own turds and be totally happy.

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• How weird is it that both Fosto (premier soon!) and the Rai Chile (bring it back!) have the same birthday? It's today. I'm putting up the King of Eweep for his birthday, as he is turning at least 100 years old. I think Rainuts is just going to sit at his house and eat healthy foodstuffs.

• The above picture comes from a Hedi Slimane picture gallery that I found through this blog called Dirty Down. If you click the picture I put up here, good shit happens, I think, but before you back back through every other picture I've ever uploaded, this is the first one that does anything. So far.

• Steampunks are a weird-ass group of people. This much we know to be true. But it never let it be said that they're not industrious as all hell. (How long, do you think, before this guy inadvertently turns himself into C3PO?)

• I would like to call attention to the fact that I have invented a new word: "Embonered." (Embonered, adj. 1. To be stoked on, or to have a hard-on about someone or some thing. "The new Lil Wayne mixtape has me fully embonered, nullus." 2. Actually being in the state of having a boner. "You ready? I'm embonered.")

• Miraculously, The White Stripes have emerged victorious in the time-honored game of "Endure the Obnoxious Shithead Canadian."

• From the Finally File (Cross-referenced with the Nobody Cares Anymore But Me File): Jim Greco gets Epicly Later'd.

• Just Blaze has one long track with like four songs from Jay Electronica, who, despite having a wackass rap name, is actually dope as fuck.

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