Ice-Grilled Cheese

Mic Cheek...er Check

My adolescence saw the rise of "underground" hip-hop. At the time I was geeked off Fondle 'Em, as well as a few other less prominent labels. In a dark age when the mainstream was dominated by Puffy and Master P this was a welcome breath of freshness in a genre that was in need of sub-division to counter the stagnant stankiness that was rap radio.

Fast forward roughly a decade and I am now confused as to what underground means. Being the cynical bastard that I am I usually assume it means shitty. Somewhere along the line consciousness became redundant, a lot of independent labels tried to move major units, more and more kids who once called me a "skigger" started believing that Kweli had something to say to them and underground rap artists believed their hype. Why is it that people say they don't care what the press says about them until the press says good things?


Two years ago this album was released on BBE records, which had released a few dope records by producers, yet failed to achieve "Underground Cult Status." This is probably due to the fact that ugly whiteboys don't rap about how heartbroken they are and how much Bush sucks on the label's releases. Anywho, Baby Blak's album reaffrimed my faith in indie labels doing rap music for about a week, but I still find this album to be a great souce of aural pleasures two years later.

I remembered the dude had a couple 12's in my indie craze faze that I liked and was very happy to see this on the shelf when it was first released. Actually, I could hate the music and still be pleased to see that ass anytime, but that's besides the point.

The point is that this is a DOPE album. It has the braggadocio, the message, the beats, only two songs with guest emcees, cohesiveness, and that ass on the album cover. Still, I have never encountered anyone who feels this shit like I feel it. The song Friends is one of the dopest rap songs I've heard on the O'Jays favorite subject. Backstabbers not neck stabbers, I said O'Jay not O.J. Using an interpolation of Whodini's famous hit by the same name and an ill-ass vocal sample Blak spits venom on his "Niggas, roadies, peoples, friends." This song alone is worth the price of admission.

If this album was in the NFL Draft then some a-hole with a terrible hairo would call it a tweener. Way too gutter for the coffehouse, way too conscious for the club. Perfect for me. Check it out.

Listen Up
1. This little bitch deserved worse. I'm glad that no one frowned on popdukes (not that he would care) for doling out the asswhippings that helped make me the balanced good-natured dude I am now. For some reason the concept of him taking off his belt and my ass coming out never made sense but I'm glad he disciplined me anyway. Sometimes the term "Very pussy" comes into my head when reflecting on parenting, but I suppose until I have chilrins of my own I shan't judge others techniques.
2. Vladimir refused to let Danny have the worst hair on the team. Mighty white of him.
3. I don't like being no waiter, although being a procrastinator is a-okay.
4. I promise to never say a-okay again. Starting now.

It is my duty and honor to introduce you to Joey and his great blog Straight Bangin', a site that became the source for my daily NBA fix. Scoop: This is how it should be done.

Just in case anybody saw that one show that I haven't seen on eMpTyV called Meet The Barkers where a tattooed cadaver and a bimbo playmate raise a kid you should know that the kid belongs to Oscar De La Hoya. Now I already have an extensive list of reasons to dislike The Golden Boy, but to let your kid grow up with an idiot mother and a washed up drummer father that pay no attention to the kid (I've heard, I do not and will not watch eMpTyV for any reason) is just wrong. The fact that this is happening for an audience of potentially hundreds is just reprehensible. DLH, stop getting these golddiggers pregnant or please take an interst in your children's lives. Holyfield planted more seeds John Arbor and he manages to have some bit of continuity in their lives. Step it up Oscar. You get The Gas Face.

This bullshit list of rules involving fellatio recently made it's way to my attention. I couldn't help but respond. It is so easy to be funny making fun of someone else's failed attempt at humor. So in the vain of Sporty Thevz (I think they were called that) I respond for all the men to The BJ Protocol:
1* First and foremost, we are not obligated to do it.
Just as I am not obligated to fix things, defend you, rub your feet, be polite to your idiotic family and buy you gifts.
2* Extension to rule ..1 ~ So if you get one, be grateful.
I will be be grateful. In fact I will tell all my friends and acquaintances all about it because I can't get over just what a great girl you are.
3* I don't care WHAT they did in the porn video you saw; it is not standard practice to cum on someone's face.
I have seldom been accused of having standards anyway.
4* Extension to rule ..3 ~ No, I DON'T have to swallow.
It is rather unladylike to spit.
5* My ears are not handles.
Why would I grab your ears when you have tits?
6* Extension to rule ..5 ~ Do not push on the top of my head.
How about the back of your head?
7* Last I heard, operation deep throat had been done already. Additionally, do you really WANT puke on your dick?
Learn some breath control. And some better vocab.
8* I don't care how relaxed you get, it's never ok to fart.
What makes you think I could ever relax when my very manhood is near the teeth of a feminazi?
9* Having my period does not mean that it's "hummer week"; get it through your head; I'm bloated and I feel like shit, so no, I don't feel particularly obligated to blow you.
I'd rather get "it" through YOUR head.
10* "Blue balls" might have worked on high school girls, if you're that desperate, go jerk off and leave me alone.
I'll be thinking about your best friend. In a threesome with your sister. So that's cool with me.
11* Leaving me in bed while you go play video games immediately afterwards is highly inadvisable if you would like my behavior to be repeated in the future.
No one is saying you have to stay in bed.
12* If you like how we do it, it's probably best not to speculate about the origins of our talent. Just enjoy the moment and be happy that we're good at it. See also rule ..2 about gratitude.
Hey I've got my past too. Slut.
13* No, it doesn't particularly taste good. And I don't care about the protein content.
Weird, those are my exact thoughts on your cooking.
14* No, I will NOT do it while you watch TV.
That's why God invented halftime.

Kingsley Ikeke

Despite having the unfortunate distinction of bearing the most pussy- assed name in the fightgame since Marlon Starling, Kingsley Ikeke put a nice little asswhipping on Antwun Echols on Friday Night Fights this weekend. Ikeke is a 6'4" Nigerian fighting out of Canada. That's right a 6'4" middleweight. After a first round dominated by Echols' aggression, Ikeke settled in behind a jab that couldn't miss and caused some very serious swelling around the left eye of the three time title challenger Echols. Looking very sturdy on a pair of legs he apparently borrowed from Manute Bol, Ikeke was able to become more aggressive from the seventh round on, peppering Echols with combos as he sensed the steam rising out of his opponent. Echols voluntarily took a knee in the tenth following a few miniscule looking shots to the eye area. Echols' cornerman Dan Birmingham did the right thing and stopped the fight following the round with his man behind on the scorecards and risking severe eye injury. A solid move on his part.

A good win for Ikeke, who looks like he could be a factor in the post-Bernard Hopkins middlewight era beginning next January. He should next look to find a good buffet. 6'4" 160? That's freakish.

I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore!!!


I, for one, wish that Sheffield woulda got all Steven Jackson on those mugs last night. The reason is quite simple. Fuck the Red Sox.

Well, not so much fuck the Red Sox as fuck Boston fans. These people love to brag about being the city of champions. Christ, that is like a guy losing his virginity and bragging to Wilt The Stilt.

The Boston faithful love to boo the heroic Alex Rodriguez. I would feel badly if I ran Nomar out of town chasing a pipe dream, but there is no need to take it out on A-Rod. Alex Rodriguez is for the children. I guess it is cooler to look like Jesus while doing shots of whiskey in the clubhouse than to actually act like Jesus. Granted, this is the city that gave us John Kerry.

The Yankees and Sox don't meet again until Memorial Day weekend. The hatred will lay dormant, much like Denis Leary's career, until that weekend. On that weekend grills will ignite and drunks will get pulled over, but the most important issue will be how the Yankee fans respond.

I would like to make a call to arms to all the Yankee fans. Push the Red Sox fans into traffic. Also, in the following weeks it may be a good idea to stand outside of movie theatres and lynch anyone going to see Fever Pitch, although that may be a more desirable fate than seeing that piece of shit.

Is $10 to a $100 worth taking an asswhooping or a pistol whipping? A Rome, GA high school's board apparently has yet to see Carmelo Anthony's movie debut. And all this time it seemed as though these kids were Model High School students.

$nitche$ Riche$

$10 for snitching about theft- Your $10 will almost certainly be stolen in the parking lot after school.

$25-$50 for drug related info- I would make up shit about a jock selling drugs. I would promptly buy between 1.75 and 3.5 grams of marijuana with the bitch money.

$100 for gun info- How about you install functional metal detectors and pay the security guards to do something other than ogle sophomore hos.

I have faith in the younger generation to not let the adults win by divide and conquer. But don't forget to rat on people for being goth, that might save you.