White People Hate Rap

I don’t get it.  What do you have against it?  Are you that affraid of black people that you can’t bear to hear their drawl over rhythmic percussions?  There was a point in time where your people took great pleasure in watching black people do a cute little jig or sing a song for your fair skinned dame.  Now you roll your eyes in disgust or boredom.  What went wrong?  When did black entertainment not become enjoyable to you?  That’s really racist.  You need to gett your lilly ass up to Rexdale, holler at the closest brother, flash him a smile and say with the most earnest tone “c’mon boy…just rap for me!”

Young Jeezy = Smrat Man

A new VBS Meets went up recently. Rapper extraordinaire Young Jeezy is its subject matter. Its actually hilarious. But not intentionally hilarious. More like minstrel show hilarious. Jeezy’s body language is akin to that time during exams when you knew the answer to maybe a whole 2 questions.

Jeezy loves edumacation.

New Site

Politicking

I love politics.  In fact, I love talking about them more than I actually like the mechanics of politics itself.  It’s a discussion that draws varying opinions that inevitably will lead to disagreements, raised voices and rolled eyes.  It’s basically an open door to R.I.P.’ing friends.

My buddy Trace “The Republican” Crutchfield’s new show just does that.  He traipses a number of states looking to stir a politcal pot that’s already currdled with rhetoric and dis-information  all in the name of entertainment.

Enjoy.

http://current.com/items/89205643_unconventionally_yours_with_trace_crutchfield

I Ate Shit and Became a Star

My latest gastro incantation.

SFO

I know this is long over due. By now, most of you have known, heard and we’ve chatted about my surprise birthday present which was (in case you didn’t know) a weekend getaway to San Francisco. Seemed like everyone was in on it though, so if you do fall into the latter group, you probably really aren’t my friend.

They’re now selling Fuji x Obey track bikes at Macy’s.

Chinatown.

Toronto…take note. This is a REAL taco.

SF hills will kill ya.

We chilled out at the Japanese Tea Garden for ice cold green tea and obscure Asian cookies and treats.

Ocean Beach. This place is like 10 minute bike ride from Jacob’s place. Bastard.

This is a bad picture but its from a restaurant in the Mission called Blue Plate. Its kind of a twist on modern American bistro type food. I had meatloaf, with pork belly. Jacob had pork chops and Michelle had Gnocchi. Food was on-fucking-point. However, it was hotter than hell in this place and our tolerance was definitely tested.

EMB???

Over-priced guacamole from a taco spot down on the wharf near Embarcadero. Pricey? Yes. Good-enough-to-make-you-pee? Damn skippy.

Cupcake princess.

I think Marcus McBride front side flipped this. I could be wrong (my Skate-pedia Browns will have to fact check that for me). In any case though, once a heralded skate spot that the aforementioned owned. Now a bench for the Cupcake Princess.

A watering hole somewhere in the Mission.

Don’t say the car’s topless, say the tits are out.

Don’t even front like you don’t wish you could be right then and there.

Jacob took us to this Puerto Rican spot in San Rafael called Sol Food. One of the better meals on this trip. All organic/free range (for the whities), and portion sizes/price points that were more than reasonable (for the brownies).

Fried plantain + California tomatoes + avacado + fresh, organic mozzarella cheese.

Early Sunday morning, at the Civic Center on Market, people were lining up to buy live chickens and balut.

This was the lineup for Dotties on Sunday morning. Kidding! It’s the line-up for one of the shelters off of Jones. Oh how it sucks to be homeless.

Idyllic SF.

Jacob’s broken Frejus. I’ll let him explain how this happened.

Just To Let You Know…

My pal Trace and I always talk about BBQ. Trace reigns from Houston so he not only can appreciate a good and proper cue, but he’s also quick to call bullshit on all the city slickers north of the Mason-Dixon Line that think that barbecue somehow involves propane.

You Can’t Stop Them

Highlight of the year.

Comment of the year.

Lil’ Odeezie

Bear with me. I have a full time job. Updating the blog while I know has been sporadic at best, is really all I can do. And since I’m not trying to be BlogTo, I really could care less if this is old news. As a pre-cursor to our Momofuku Ssam dinner, a couple of friends and myself decided to chow down on some authentic Russian cuisine in Brighton Beach also known as Little Odessa. I’m not sure what ‘Odessa’ refers to, but coupled with my recent infatuation with GTA4 and prediliction for Russian prison tattoos, I had a boner as soon as we got off the train.

Thanks to Mike and Kate for being great hosts.

Also, thanks to the kid who pointed at me and commented “Have you ever seen chinese people like that???? Look at their eyes!!!”. Awesome.

CB and myself. My A-Alike. No homo.

Beef tongue. Yum. Not quite as tasty as pork head though.

They are like perogies. Except they swim in butter.

Russian poutine.

We walked to Coney Island later. Their Polar Express has a mural of Tupac and Biggie and the DJ sounds like he should be spinning a mix show on Hot 97. Everyone was amped. Girls were hollering. Thugs were throwing up sets. One dude even took off his shirt during the fast cycle of the ride, and started waving it around in the air. Yup, BK is in the house.

Photos courtesy of Alam.

Korean Pigs in a Blanket

Its been a hot minute since I’ve posted on here. And for that I apologize. Depriving you – our loyal fans – of decadent prok posts must be quite tolling on the nerves.

I recently visited my good ol ginger buddy CB who has been living in the Rotten Apple for a few months. The duration of my stay included a number of meat heavy meals, including a disappointing visit to much talked about Wildwood that I’m quite sure, wreaked havoc on CB’s porcelain pedestal. Our final meal however, absolutely destroyed any possibilities of us averting colon cancer. A New York trip wouldn’t be complete without a sit down at one of chef du jour David Chang’s establishments. We opted for Ssam Bar since we did Noodle Bar last visit and if you don’t know, they serve this $200 slow roasted pork shoulder that could feed a family of 12.

Usually you have to pre-reserve this before your visit, but thanks to our buddy Tyler, he charmed the kitchen staff into hooking us up with a “baby Bo Ssam”. According to the chef, this was a quarter of the full size. The wait staff said its more like a third of the full size. In any case, it was a lot of fucking prok.

Pork Head Croquettes and Lamb Belly

4lbs of Pork Shoulder and L.I. Oyseters to boot.

You very rarely catch white people doing this. Species totally out of its element.

Pretty much sums up our meal.