he's a beast, he's a dog

Sam has not posted in more than a week. In his stead, here is one of his best quotes of all time:

Overheard on College Hill

Do you think Brown has a drinking problem?

The Brown Daily Herald, 10/12/07

Sam N., '08

I I think a majority of the problem - I don't want to single out freshman and sophomores - but the big problem is people getting here and not being used to the freedom of being able to drink without any restrictions.

People who never really drank in high school, or middle school for that matter, end up being kind of overwhelmed with this new opportunity. And it's not to say that I'm advocating binging in high school, but I think appropriate alcohol consumption in high school may even level out some of these people that go crazy once they get to college. That's been my experience.

I guess there are juniors and seniors that have issues of reaching their limits. I guess it's also important to have friends around who can, if not protect you, keep you in line and tell you to shut up when you need to, and tell you to go home and sleep when you need to.

I personally love DPS and EMS. As opposed to other schools or outside of academia where they adopt a zero tolerance policy, it doesn't really prevent people from using substances. It prevents them from getting the help they need after using the substances.

I have no problem calling EMS on somebody who's vomiting, if I don't think I can take care of them myself. And I know that DPS isn't going to get me kicked out of school for being high or being drunk somewhere. I really get the feeling that they're actually there to protect and serve you, rather than discipline and repress you.

Culture Wars

Tonight I am going to the opera. Everyone out there who thinks I'm all about money, hoes and clothes can suck it. The kid also has a taste for high culture.

I will be seeing Orfeo ed Euridice, by Gluck, at the Metropoplitan Opera House. The story follows the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, a classic tale:

Boy loves girl, girl dies, boy follows her to the underworld to save her but gods tel him he can't talk to or look at her, boy looks at girl, girl dies again, boy almost kills himself but the gods make hte girl come back to life again, everyone lives happily ever after.

How can you not love this type of shit?

Nice suspenders, n00b.

This evening should stand in stark contrast to last night, when I went to the Rangers game at MSG. There is truly nothing like the opera to balance out the Canadian thugs kicking the crap out of each other. The Rangers did win though, so that was good.

blue monday

we are not the same, I am a Martian

For those of you that read my previous blog (some deep underground shit. someday the content on there will be worth its weight in gold!) you will know that I have an appreciation for the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration. Well, I recently came upon this image on Wikipeida and thought I would share it with you all. It is a shot of the ship America during the failed Ziegler Polar Expedition which failed to reach the North Pole in 1903. Different pole, I know. But look at this pic:

Caption: "On October 15th, our luminary dipped below the horizon in a glow of scarlet fire."

Imagine being on that ship as the sun dipped below the horizon, plunging you and the only 30 other men for thousands of miles into months of darkness, surrounded by massive sheets of ice. I don't know about you guys, but it sounds cool to me! I mean, who wouldn't want to be a part of this?

This type of exploration is missing from our society today. The internet, which in my mind is still a 21st century "wild west," is a poor substitute for the place that these epic expeditions used to have in society's imagination. Hopefully soon, we will be going to Mars, so people can focus on something besides killing each other over completely senseless ideas.

For real, sign me up on the first ship. I want to live in that thing.

This country is Barack-ing

Just a short acknowledgment of the inauguration this morning. I know I hate a lot, but watching that speech even gave this cynic goosebumps. Here's hoping that we return to balling out as hard as we did in the mid-90s.

In the modified words of Steve Ballmer: "I LOVE THIS COUTNRYY"

Barack, if you're reading this (I knwo you are- we got Google ananlytics on this bitch), let me just say one more thing. Disregard my earlier negative energy and channel the positive vibes I am sending your way today. You gave a good speech, my friend. Better than I could have given. Just don't screw this one up man. We are all counting on you, legit.

Handle thy shit.

Steelers, Cardinals, Advertisements

So sports fans, your Super Bowl matchup is now set. In two weeks, the Pittsburgh Steelers will face the Arizona Cardinals in what is sure to be a much worse game than last year (GMENNNNNN!!).

First off, I have to say that I am disappointed that Ray Rice, the pride of New Rochelle and Running Back for the Baltimore Ravens, lost today and will not be going to the Super Bowl as a rookie. Its ok though, because I still guarantee his future beast status in the National Football League.

Onto the actual game. The Steelers are going to win. This is not about what I want, because I would love nothing more than to see Larry Fitzgerald win a ring. The fact is that the Steelers have an insane defense and a quarterback who makes just enough plays every week to grind out a win for his post-industrial city still struggling to redefine itself after the companies that created it left to follow cheap labor to the Developing World.

So except for the real, hardcore football fans who have watched the entire season, feel the emotion of the teams that have been through hell together, and understand the subtleties of the game we call football (but should really call something else- seriously. Football was already taken), most people just watch the Super Bowl for the ads. This year, I hope they are still good in spite of the economy. I mean, seriously. This is America- we are not going to let some Depression ruin the fucking Super Bowl are we? Remember when this ad was the hottness?

Yea. A true classic. I learned how to burp that back in the day.

Jamie Foxx

Tonight is the pre-inauguration concert in Washington DC and Jamie Foxx is supposedly giving a reading. When I become President of the United States, I will no doubt also have a multi-genre celebrity speaking at my pre-inauguration party. Some people hate on Jamie Foxx. I can't understand this. One person that I until today considered a friend, who will remain nameless (her name is short for a piece of male genitalia), was talking some serious shit about Jamie Foxx earlier this afternoon. Her reasoning: "I don't like when celebrities think they can do more than one genre." That's some bullshit, Jamie can do anything, which as proven tonight includes historical speeches. Here's a clip of Jamie sabotaging a fellow comedian at a roast of football great Emmitt Smith.



Basically anything Jamie Foxx does is historically relevant, not just the speech tonight. The fact that Jamie Foxx is a multi-genre star allows him to get down on historically relevant music, like Gold Digger. I heard this song at least three times a night at every party I went to my first year at college. You all remember.



College was pretty fun. Everything escalates quickly at college. Drinking, papers, mostly I'm talking about drinking. God bless the brass monkey and fuck the dealer. There is of course no rule though that we can't drink heavily outside of the golden gates of academia, it just becomes a little less accepted. Fuck it. I plan on drinking a brass monkey on my 50th birthday party. And 60th and every decade I make after that. Bring it.

T-T-T-TR

So in light of Barack Obama's coming inaguration I would like to offer some advice to teh next Leader of the World/ Baller in Chief:
I know that everybody is talking about FDR as a model for your presidency, but I would like to offer up another suggestion. The other President Roosevelt. TR!

I think its clear what I am talking about from these two portraits. I don't see Barack rockin that little string off of his glasses! In fact, he's not wearing glasses at all--he probably has contact lenses, which are commonly known to be the work of the Devil and will result in your eyes falling out on your 60th birthday. This is a fact.

But back to TR, my favorite President. I have a bust of him on my desk even now as I am writing this. If you don't believe me, ask anyone I know. Chances are they will not hesitate to embarass me by verifying this story. Why is TR my favorite president, you ask? Well, let me enumerate just a few of the reasons:

1. He made the Grand Canyon a National Park.
2. He was a rancher.
3. He wrote the definitive Naval History of the War of 1812 (bonus question: What was a main cause of the War of 1812?)
4. He was on a hike in the Catskills when he learned that President McKinley had been shot and that he would become president.
5. In his "comeback tour" he won the most votes of any 3rd Party candidate, with the Bull Moose party.
6. He killed more animals for fun than any other President.
7. He's from NEW YORK, just like Ja Rule.
8. He is present in a picture of Abraham Lincoln's funeral procession through New York City.
9. He is named after the Teddy Bear (I am just told that this might not be true. I will have to check and get back to you).
   
10. He built the Panama Canal.

OK so that last one brings me to his biggest shortcoming, but its kindof a biggie. Jingoism. Yes he thought that the US of A could do whatever we wanted in Latin America. This is not cool. President Elect Obama, don't be about the Roosevelt Corollary.

I guess what I am really trying to say is, Barack (Can I call you Barack?), should I get this cartoon as a tattoo?

the other blog, as introduced through this blog, bloggin

I started another blog about my NGO here in Rio, Community in Action (Comunidade em Ação). The idea is to get the students and volunteers at the NGO sharing their everyday experiences in both Portuguese and English. Here is a taste to give some visual of what the organization does:



This does not in any way mean that I'm going to start getting serious here, or that the Community in Action blog will be completely serious either. What I mean to say is, everything that I write and/or say is very serious and should not be questioned, criticized, or trivialized. This is the reason why blogs exist, because the things we artists have to say are far more important than your average Joe.

Something very important that I was just pondering is the amount of sugar or salt each country puts in their respective individual ketchup packets.



Let's be real and agree that the packets in the United States contain what can be called 'normal' or 'real' ketchup. I'm not particularly well traveled. I've been to Canada so let's start there. It's too sweet. It's pretty close to American ketchup, but not quite the same thing. But Canadians put mayonaisse or vinegar on shit instead so it doesn't really matter. Nice try Canada. I live in Brazil. The ketchup here is both sweet and salty at the same time. Fuck that. If you ever come to Brazil, ask for mustard instead.

Brain Dump

In the spirit of the previous post, here are some of the things I have been thinking about today:

Ricky Henderson got inducted into the baseball Hall of Fame in his first year of elegibility. He used to be a coach on the Mets. I always love seeing people affiliated with the Mets getting into Cooperstown.

The Game is coming up on my list of favorite rappers. Watch this video of him and Kanye (who will always be #1 in my heart).

It would be really cool if I were actually born in a different time and place. For example, colonial New York, Ohio and Michigan when they were the Western frontier of America, colonial French Canada, ancient Rome, first generation British convict in Australia, the people who went out on the Pacific Ocean in canoes to populate all those islands. Really any other era has at least a few perks.

I am pretty much over Barack Obama. Its great that he got elected, but since he has suuuuch high expectations I already know he is bound to disappoint. He will likely cave to environmental interests in the face of economic catastrophe. If this is really a New New Deal, I want all new sidewalks, playgrounds, National Parks, publicly-funded murals, surveys of historic buildings, and dams. Also, finish the sculpture of Crazy Horse out there in South Dakota

Why beat around the bush (no pun intended)? I spent all my political energy on the election. Now, just let me watch cartoons and experience this country's last decade of pseudo-relevancy. Nothing we can do about it people.

I don't really like Mondays, especially when there is no Monday Night Football to look forward to.

When the Matrix is revealed to be real, I'll be there telling all you fools "told you so!"

It goes without saying by Sam that it takes all of my efforts at times to remain grounded in society and not let my mind explode under the ridiculous state that is modern American life. To make matters worse, I work in Times Square and am forced to look a giant ads for Charmin all day. Charmin! As if I'm going to a play and thinking to myself "you know, I bet Charmin is good. My ass does get sore when I wipe it with yesterday's USAToday."

= = the end of the world. That is an ipod speaker/TP holder.

What do you think about THAT? Now I'm faklempt. Talk amongst yourselves.

Step Up

I'm feeling the pressure. I can't sleep. I can't eat. It consumes all of my thoughts. The Kid simply out-posts me. It's not just quantity (in which he also excels), it's quality.



To understand his talent for blogging, you first have to understand The Kid. His mind races. At any given moment when most of us are walking through life with blank slates or thinking of sex, The Kid's mind is usually being blown by at least four different ideas rolling around in his melon. Even in the picture above, you can tell that finishing those 40s is probably only one of about three different ideas that The Kid is trying to organize. He needs to get that out. He'll happily let you know absolutely everything that's going through his head at any time, but now he's found another outlet: the blog. Considering this, his flow of posts can actually be considered moderate compared to his true potential.

Time to insert a random funny and/or rap related picture to fill up space:


Basically I need to step it up. Despite an overwhelming amount of hate, I will continue writing my crime/erotic novel. I will rely less on gimmicks in my posts. But I refuse to stop putting up pictures of Lil Jon.

Worldwide hustlers get that dough

Its Saturday...


I know this is not the real video but they all had embedding disabled. Deal with it.

Also, I want to talk about Ludacris here for a few minutes. I think that he gets nowhere near enough love and respect. According to wikipedia, he is the highest selling artist in the history of southern rap, but I feel like no one is willing to say that they really feel him. I think this goes along with people being generally unwilling to admit that they like popular rap. Get over yourself, turn off the Aesop Rock (no offense, I also love him), and put on some of that grimy shit!

This is a man who gave the world such classics as "Area Codes," "Roll Out," "Move Bitch," "Welcome to Atlanta," and my personal favorite "Diamond in the Back."


Luda has a sick flow, and he reps the ATL without relying on crunk, which although amazing is not really the type of music you just throw on (be real people).

In closing, I give you one more song to prove my point. "Hip Hop Quotables." If God's line is busy you might have to two-way him. Case closed.

Movie to Live By: The Big Lebowski

The first movie to live by was Saving Private Ryan. Inside of me, there is an essential struggle going on between this movie and The Big Lebowski. There has been no winner yet, I think the dude is ahead since I have no chance of fighting with valor in World War II. But back to The Big Lebowski. It is the timeless story of The Dude, a true American hero who doesn't give a fuck about anything, loves to bowl, and gets involved in unbelievable mishaps and adventures. It is also full of great little snippets and lessons about life such as:
Doing Js
Wearing Bathrobes in public
Bowling
The joys of Creedence
The fucking Eagles
White Russians = good
Treating objects like women

Now for a trailer:


One more vid. Every fucking fuck in the movie. Well maybe not, but many of them.


I love this movie. Anytime you want to watch it, do the challenge, anything. Holler

The dude abides.

You didn't hear it from me

...but who started the trend of writing over-the-top fiction on this blog? I'm just sayin.

To break the cycle, check out this crazy cartoon which expresses the awesomeness of America without words. It was made in 1976 to commemorate the bicentennial of the founding of this great land.



Oh, and by the way, its Wednesday. FISHCO NIGHT!

Mario's Pizzaria, Part I

She knew it would be her last opportunity to have him before he was taken away for an eight year stint upstate. Armed robbery. In truth he had been at the end of a 48 hour meth binge and rather out of sorts when one of the patrons at Mario's Pizzaria reached for a butter knife in lame effort to foil the unsteady and quite unplanned burglary that was going on before him. In a panic our man had grabbed a pizza slicer off of the closest table and held the circular blade to the hero's throat, demanding the night's earnings from the cash register and whatever change remained with the attempted hero after paying for his medium cheese pizza. His getaway was cut short, and he had only made it about two blocks before the police intercepted him staggering down the street, pizza slicer still in hand. She had called them while hiding with the bus boys in the kitchen.

And now it would be her last opportunity to have him. His lawyer had arranged a private room for their goodbye. The least his lawyer was able to do; though he had been able to lower the charges from hostage taking and assault with a deadly weapon to armed robbery, he had failed to take up the issue of his client's mental state before the jury, saying nothing of years of addiction or even mentioning the troubling results of initial psychoanalysis. Early schizophrenia.

These things all at once flew threw her head as she entered the small, windowless room at the back of the police station. His addiction and her own, his fragile mind soon to be rocked by prison, and of course her ultimate betrayal. She reasoned to herself that it would be for his own good, they would put him in a hospital, help him break his addiction and perhaps treat his developing mental illness. He knew she had made the call that would send him away for eight years. And still he had to have her.

No words were spoken as she advanced towards him. There was nothing to say. He grabbed her and threw her on to the interrogation table. She screamed. More of delight than pain, though pain is good she thought.

The Wolf, Part 2

I quickly returned to my desk and finished up what I had been working on; filing some business papers by date last modified. There were four more tall stacks of files on my desk that I was scheduled to tackle next. The work of a filing clerk is never done, but I could think of nothing other than finding The Wolf.

Out behind the office was my car, a 1939 Ford. I had saved up for four months to get that car- the entire time I had been a file clerk. It was only a few weeks old: jet black, chrome bumpers, and whitewall tires. Looking at it, I knew that after this coming encounter with The Wolf, the car was likely to be either totaled or vanished.

Starting up the car, I peeled out of the office driveway, spraying pebbles all over the beaters parked underneath the faded mural advertising Wonder Bread. I headed east, out of town--no wait! I needed to go home and pick up a few essentials before setting out to find The Wolf. Flinging the wheel around, I sent the car into a U-turn, tires screeching. There was a kid in the middle of the road, walking home from school no doubt. I didn't stop to see if he was still alive: just another casualty in The Wolf's game.

After a quick stop at home, it was off to the great unknown.

A Day of Mystery

I'm getting a new roommate today; she's a 22 year old girl from San Francisco. She told my other roommate that she likes to work on boats. Chill I suppose. Hope she listens to extremely violent and/or trashy hip hop. I'm sure she does. Who doesn't?

We cleaned the apartment this morning. I'm not sure why. It wasn't that dirty. I kind of woke up into it. Came out of my room yawning and grabbed a dust pan, balled that out for a little while. I think perhaps it was to set the precedent of a clean living environment for this girl. Bitch better get the hint so I didn't waste my normal early morning zoning out and ball scratching time for nothing.

It's still summer vacation here, but a cold front just came into Rio and the temperature has plunged to the low 70s. It's even threatening to rain today. I've taken precautions. If it rains and I can't go out I'm going to learn to crip walk, even though if I was in a position to join either, I'd probably go blood and rep those red laces.



No problem. Now the blood walk:



And one last one, can't help it. This girl better not be gang associated. Better not leave the seat down or refill the toilet paper so it pulls out in the wrong direction, cause I'll kill the bitch.

New Years Resolutions

I've always tried to make New Year's Resolutions but in the past they have usually been stupid: don't fail out of college, learn Spanish, etc. However, since I have a natural aversion to speaking languages that are not English (If English was good enough for Jesus Christ, it was good enough for the children of Texas! -Miriam Ferguson) these have not often worked. I did graduate college though, so I always have that one going for me.

Anyway here are some more realistic goals for me this year:

-Continue to write Trojans, my scifi masterpiece that will redefine the genre and make me rich and famous (if you want to read some of it, let me know!)
-Not let this blog die like so many of my other ventures in my life
-Fix the slice in my golf game so I can become a member of high society and get invited to invest with Bernie Madoff (too soon)
-Attend my first NFL game
-Work out at least once a month (I told you these were realistic)

That's about all I got. Still pretty sore from tackling all those menacing newspaper stands on New Years. I think I taught them a lesson for trying to tempt me with free periodicals. This is America people! Nothing is free! Especially not freedom itself!

Finally, I would like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you who actually read this blog. I love you all. I love some people who don't read the blog too, but they'll never know because I would never admit it to their face. Anyway, here's hoping that everyone continues to ball on progressively higher levels this year.