Wednesday, October 13, 2010

I challenged Fred Flinstone to a car race a won!

My victory was not because of my freakishly fast feet, but because my wheels were created out of hard stone bagels cerca 1700 which were preserved after Poland's king Jan Sobieski defeated the Ottoman Turks in 1683. Probably the only victory Poland has ever celebrated. Back to the bagel. Many believe that it was created to celebrate this legendary victory for the Poles. However, the bagel was actually created much earlier in Krakow, to rival the bublik, a lean bread of wheat flower designed for lent.

Needless to say, Fred was pretty pissed. I mean Yabba Dabba Do pissed. Therefore, I am creating a playlist for Fred....not really.



I spent about 7 hours in the car on Sunday driving from the south and the only song that was able to generate any sort of movement that slightly resembled tourrette finger pointing was this. Taylor was all hopped up on West Virginia coffee and subway and that formula really out did my performance. I will give him this one, but I have to add that while he slept in a bed, I woke up outside on a porch with no shirt on and he didn't partake in the four loco challenge over the weekend. P.S to avoid a migraine, don't watch the video, just listen.



Toot it and boot it. Only one thing comes to mind when I read the title of this song. These guys are obviously talking about the two finger maneuver we all refer to as pulling the trigger after a beautiful brunch at I-hop. Apparently not. I still have no idea what it means. Something about meeting a lady at the club, bringing her back to crib and feeding her left over Papa John's.



What hasn't been said about Baltimore that hasn't been said about Baltimore. They are responsible for Omar Little, ton of laxabunga, one of the greatest Hooters establishments, and a team that continuously gets pounded by the Yankees year in year out. All hope is not lost for Bodymore. Now they got this white rapper called E-dubble who raps over Ratatat. In all honesty, he keeps it real I mean really real. Who else do you know that can make laundry sound baller as shit.



I've been saying this all along and no one is safe. The gold chains are coming back, people will be wearing white jeans, men will be wearing heels, my mom will eventually be posting Abba videos on my facebook wall, the bridge and tunnel crowd will take over lower Manhattan and Barbra Streisand will be starring in a Saturday Night Fever Musical on Broadway. John Travolta declined the invite because he is busy shooting Battlefield Earth 2: Return of the douche bag.



Honestly when I start writing commentary for a song I usually write the first thing that pops in my mind which in this case were squirrels running around chasing each other up trees, collecting acorns getting all fat with their buckteeth laughing. But they don't deserve this for one reason and one reason only. Way back in the day when I was about 8 playing in the yard of a church (WTF?) one of them decided to lunge at me and nearly gnawed my face off. To this day I despise them.



I had to put my grapefruit juice down for this one. Guess what I'm doing now? Yep, Waddling my head side to side. Not Bobbing, waddling. Not because I'm resting my large head on a pillow, but because side to side movements are in and back and forth is so 2005.



So it's Thursday evening and I had just rushed to throw some songs on my I-pod and catch my train en route to Baltimore. So I'm on the 1 heading to Penn Station listening to Cudi and I see this guy slightly resembling Santa Claus + Buddha + someone who just had eaten way too much pizza crust just taking pictures of the guy sitting across from him reading the Wall Street Journal. Obviously these two knew each other. Obviously not. Next thing you know they get in a verbal spat about Freedom vs Privacy rights blah blah blah and the only thing I could conjure was why the hell was this guy not taking pictures of me. I mean dude, I had the new I-pod nano on, lax stick in hand and a shirt that read "Brotally". What a dick. I mean the Wall Street Journal over a lax stick, come on son! I read that thing like twice a week and all they talk about is money and world issues while I'm standing there representing everything that is Native American.  In all seriousness that shit was so creepy.

Bronus:







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