Wednesday, March 08, 2006

For the people: Nerd Rap reviews

For whatever reason, I used to get really excited by rap or hip hop or whatever it's called these days but now I find that damn near any album in said genre I listen to these days to be incredibly boring. Years of picking up marginal albums from once inspired artists tends to grate on the optimism of ol' chiseven where hip hop is concerned. I mean, why did I ever continue to buy Common albums after Ressurection? I could've saved myself alot of time and money and avoided enabling ol' Com to continue figuring out how to write another rhyme that incorporated himself "looking through his daughters eyes." Alas, I was enamored by nerd rap from '98-'04 mistakenly thinking that rhyme topics that addressed politics, social issues or internal critiques of "mainstream" rap were somehow more interesting than "the shit they play on the radio." In short, I was the typical white kid who got into underground hip hop after it was good and pretended that everyone else that didn't listen to an emcee discussing metaphysical constraints of the time-space continuum over keyboard drums and a jaco pastorius loop wasn't as enlightened to "good music" as I was. Of course, that's obviously bullshit and elitist but that's what listening to "nerd-rap" will do to you if you let it. As a disclaimer though, I have never liked anything by anyone associated with antipop, so I can't say that the "nerd-rap" genre totally influenced me...I mean, I do have standards.

Anyway, thanks to the internets file-sharing, CD burners and the buying habits of my local library I have been able to listen to large amounts of nerd-rap without actually rewarding the artists with monetary compensation. And this dedication to listening to marginal products has forced me to come to this conclusion: most underground nerd-rap sucks. To prove this, I have decided to review the aptly named artist P.O.S. (a rap name worse than Rhymefest or Lil' anything) and his album "Audition" on Rhymesayers Records, home of more nerd-rap from Minnesotans who really want to let you know about their emotional angst. Heeeeere we go:

Track One- Sounds like someone found the "koto" bank on their trusty keyboard. No rapping.
Track Two-He says "Fuck Bush" and then keeps ranting over flat-drums, noisy feedback and an open bass string being plucked rapidly. He says stuff about drinking milk and screams at me to "get up get up get up" which I do, but only to press forward on the CD player. He also says sticking feathers up your ass does not make you a chicken. Seriously.
Track Three- Ah, the "I am I be" re-do where he takes Posdnuos rhymes and changes them a little so they reflect his situation or whatever. Why do rappers think it's so awesome to take the flow, cadence and bulk of another rappers verse and pretend it's not biting as much as it is a tribute to artist? Lazy creativity does not equal an artistic statement. Oh yeah, this track is boring as well except for the guy who sings like he's some drunk Englishmen from the 80's. And I only like his part becuase it sounds retarded. That's the best compliment I can muster.
Track Four- Actually I kinda like this beat because it's kinda hype. But I just realized that P.O.S.'s yelling/hyped delivery kinda sounds like Eminem ranting about how hard it is to be Eminem...and that sucks.
Track 5-I heard Slug from Atmosphere on this. Sparse beat at a slow tempo and these two emcees trading verses that may or may not relate. I don't know, I'm on my 3rd cup of coffee and I'm nodding off. Next.
Track 6-I'm not so sure this isn't Eminem rapping. If he mentions Hailey then it is him. Wait, he just said "we don't throw our hands up like we don't care anymore we throw our hands up like we don't care anymore...'cuz we don't...I give it all to the bone, my people we are not alone." I think it's funny because some interview I read on this album presented that line like it was a moment of lyrical genius or something. Jokes on that interviewer! Next!
Track 7-HA ha haaaaa! This track cracks me up. It features Jack Kimball who must be another drunken Englishman raised on the Smiths ranting about the only movie he walked out on: The Predator. He says this: "I've only walked out on one single movie-it was an action adventure-it was a blood-sucking summer-the posters in the lobby of the theater called it Predator-I called it weak and unwatchable-Carl Withers and two future governors-ya know it's really unacceptable-we gotta stop falling for these (unintelligable) double speakers from the double-features-we gotta keep them in the theaters." You have to actually hear it to understand how bad it is. Plus, who the fuck does this revisionist mu'fuckah think he is dissin' Carl Withers circa 1987? Withers lost an arm for that movie! That's mutherfucking dedication! Anyway, this song is boring and uneventful, not to mention slow. It must be deep.
Track 8-Slow track. Sounds like Eminem pissed off and doing tongue-twisters for a verse. Boring.
Track 9-Ok, this is just terrible. Sampled rock guitars and ehhh, at least it's short.
Track 10-16-More of the same. Seriously, if I listen to 9 out of 16 tracks and only one is kind of interesting in comparison to the other tracks then why even bother listening to the other tracks all the way. These songs all sound like they are saying the same thing: I can rap over tracks with all sorts of weird instrumental arrangements. And I sound like a ranting Eminem. Very boring and uninteresting. This is the embodiment of nerd-rap...very "serious" rapping with the occasional yell to show sincerity over uninspired keyboard-sounding production. I read an interview that claimed that this album was the future of hip-hop. I hope not. I picked up this album at the library and said to myself "I'm pretty sure this dude's rap name isn't piece of shit" but after listening to the album I must conclude that it probably is. At least he knows it though. So there it is-an hour of my life gone, thanks to nerd-rap. I have endured this marginal art so you do not have to. Give praise.

On a side note: I quit my job and will be writing more now. Seriously. I mean it this time.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

The Return
(That image is what I got when i typed in "I'm back!" at google images. Works for me.)

So I finally got the internets hooked up at the crib which means that I should be back to posting with the frequency that I used to when I first started this blog damn near two years ago, back in the salad days when I had an internet connection at home and could share my witty ramblings with all who stumbled upon my site before deciding to go over to someone else's blog. This of course, means that I can now post more often rather than trying to post from work when no one is paying attention (which is increasingly difficult these days) so here we go. It's time for stories.

So a few weeks ago, I picked up a prostitute.
Now mind you, when I picked up this lady of the evening I had no idea that she was a prostitute but I quickly discovered that: a)I'm a fucking idiot and b) I'm way too trusting and nice when it comes to helping people out. Here's the story:

I drove over to my local video store to return a video and to stop by so I could satisfy my snickering quota for the day. One thing I love about my crappy video rental store is the fact that it is really cheap and it caters to really dumb people who don't mind spending $3 to watch "I Got The Hookup" starring Master P. Also, it has a porn room in the back which is frequented by fat men in sweatpants, thus providing me with endless opportunities to snicker at them and make them feel uncomfortable by trying to look at the video they've rented so I can be like "oh hell yeah! In that video she sucks dick like it's going out of style! Good pick man!" I never actually get a chance to say this to them since they pretty much make a break for the register once they get out of the porn-room. And these dudes are quicker than lab mice trapped in a maze trying to find the cheese once they get out. They scamper over racks of videos and in-between displays and before I can comment on their selection they are gone with porn in hand. Obviously the sweat-pants help facilitate the escape and have nothing to do with easy accessibility to...ah, but I'm getting off point here. Back to the prostitute.

So I return my video without going inside and I start to drive off in the mighty Taco when I notice this real beat-up haggard crossing the street and attempting to walk on the icy, snow-covered sidewalk. I must have looked too long for whatever reason because she made eye contact with me and waved me down before I could exit the parking lot. She approached the taco and instead of mashing on the gas I rolled down my window like an idiot. I actually thought I could be able to like give her some spare change and send her on her cold walk to wherever, most likely a return to her miserable life and her eventual demise from liver failure due to acute cirrhosis of the liver. She staggered over:

Prostitute: I'm sorry to bother you but it's really cold out here and I'm trying to get to my sisters house and she lives just down the street and I was wondering if you could give me a ride?
Me: Ummm, how far down the street? I'm kinda in a hurry here (a lie).
P: Just a few blocks.
Me: Oh what the hell, get in. I'll take you.
Mistake #1.
So I drive her down the street and she introduces herself and asks if I'm married. Of course, being the oblivious idiot that I am, I say "no" and her face lights up like a neon beer sign.
Mistake #2
P: "Oh really? I don't believe that. You're cute."
Me: "Nah, it's dark. So your sister lives where?"
P: "Oh just down the block, two streets down. So, do you drink?"
Me: "Ummm, sometimes (another lie...I'm an alcoholic in denial). Not often."
P: "Oh yeah, you wanna go get a drink? It's my birthday. We should go get a drink."
Me: "Oh Happy Birthday, um no thanks, I've got stuff to do. Is this the street?"
P: "Oh yeah, she's the 5th house on the left. So do you party?"

By this point my bullshit detector is finally going off and I realize that she has no fucking sister and I better do whatever it takes to get this ho out of my car before it's too late. My mind, being the steel trap that it is, quickly springs into action.

Me: "Uh, nope I don't party. I had to give it up. Is this her house?"
P: (pretending to be surprised)"Oh yeah it is but her Red Mitsubishi isn't here so she's not home. Maybe you could just take me over to my's just a few blocks away. Do you mind? (without waiting for an answer) Thanks. So you don't party. Do you like to have fun?"
Me: "Nope. I read the bible at night."
P: "Oh. Well are you sure I can't get you to buy me a drink? It's my birthday. You want to buy a girl a drink?"
Me: "Nope. Where do you live again?"
P: "Up here on the left. So, would you like to come back to my house? I hate to go home alone, especially on my birthday. I've got whiskey."
Me: "I hate whiskey. Is it this white house with the closed shutters?"
P: "Yeah. Are you sure? I'm really lonely and I promise it'll be worth it. We could drink a beer or two..."
Me: "Well here we are. Happy Birthday. Good night."
P: "But I-"
Me: "Out! Beat it!"
P: (opening door) "Fuck you faggot!" (slams door)

I locked my door and watched her slither into the shadows, cutting into an alley behind the house she said she stayed at and then she disappeared. It was only at this point that I realized that I had just picked up a hooker and resisted her three teeth, pockmarked face, and stringy mullet as well as her charms. I made a mental note to be a complete asshole to anyone else I meet near the video store and to never ever give any hood-rats a ride anywhere. I also realized that while I may be a naive motherfucker I still do have enough dignity to resist the charms of the common Indianapolis prostitute and for this I am proud. And I realized that not everyone can be called a "fucking faggot" by a prostitute so again, I am proud.

It's good to be back. *out*

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Indiana: Home of Religious Nuts and Douchebags for Jesus
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"I'm Cray-zeee about Christ!"

No wonder the rest of the world considers the mass population of my home state to be backwoods idiots wielding bibles and avoiding common sense. It turns out that the general view of my fellow Hoosiers seems to be horrifyingly accurate. I've long suspected this, being an individual of sound mind and character with an aversion to Christianity and all purveyors of said faith. Living in Indiana has afforded me many laughs at the expense of others and their religious fervor. That said, nothing this year has made me laugh harder than this article on the front page of my local fishwrap known as The Indianapolis Star.
In case you don't know, last year some judge ruled that the Indiana House of Representatives couldn't invoke the big J.C.'s name in prayers because it's a violation of the separation between church and state. Of course, all the douchebags for Jesus get all up-in-arms because they can't have their way and just relax on the Jesus loving for like 3 minutes during the day. So this douche, pictured above, House Speaker Brian Bosma leads the Legislature in a prayer before they start the day so that they aren't defying the judge. Sayeth the douche:

"We're taking a stand. We're making a statement," Bosma said. "But within the bounds of the court order."

Wow. What courage! That'll show Satan and all those pesky judges not to mess with self-promoting aggressive and misguided douchebags for Jesus! What character! What resolve!
To further cement his status as a feminine sanitary product used to remove odors from a woman's vagina, Bosama then made the following remark as he fellated himself in front of the legislators and they responded as self-righteous douches usually do:

"Those of us, myself included, who yearn for the opportunity to freely speak in accordance with our beliefs have historically always ended up on the right side of history," he said.

His remarks were met by a 30-second standing ovation from House members and the gallery.

Of course, the reporter found one member who didn't agree with the whole process who turned out to be a Democrat and a Jew (which no doubt, upsets these Jesus freaks), as well as posessing a good argument implying that Bosama and company are just a bunch of self-promoting assholes.
Less enthusiastic was Rep. David Orentlicher, an Indianapolis Democrat and the sole Jewish legislator. Orentlicher said he was in a meeting outside the House chamber when the prayer huddle took place. He said he had no problem with private and personal prayers.
But Orentlicher, who lingered in a doorway to the House chamber as Bosma explained his objections to Hamilton's order, said the speaker should be paying more attention to vital issues such as health care and tax policy and less to the prayer controversy.
He also criticized Bosma for continually insisting in public that free speech is at stake when his lawyers conceded that was not the case before Hamilton.
"It's unfortunate he wants to create religious conflict and political division when there are critical issues facing the state," Orentlicher said.

Of course, this rational argument meant little to a brainwashed minion of Christ from Crawfordsville, attending one of two absurd rallies held in the House:

Outside the House chamber, peering through a window at the proceedings and carrying a sign that said "In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen," 15-year-old Praise Jerusha Sharp, Crawfordsville, was among those who objects to Hamilton's ruling.
She took a day off from her private school to make her feelings known. "If they don't start praying in Jesus' name, our country is going to fall," she said. "I've asked (God), and he doesn't like it."

Amazing! God won't even help me pick the right Powerball numbers but he will talk to some 15 year-old backwoods yokel about the merits of seperating government and religion. I bet she sincerely believes that she has talked to God too. So there you have it, as far as I'm concerned:
Proof that Indiana is home to religious nuts and Douchebags for Jesus. And the scary thing is that they are the majority. No wonder most of the nation refers to hillbillies as "Hoosiers"-it's frightengly accurate.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

I Suspect That Cookie Puss Is The Greatest Food Ever Made

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"Hooray for Cookie Puss, whatever you are!"

Now mind you, I have no idea what this anthropomorphic cake from outerspace tastes like but upon appearance alone I can deduce that it is the tastiest food creation from outerspace I have ever laid mine eyes upon. For those of you not in the know concerning Cookie Puss's origins, I direct you to Carvel's web site, where Cookie Puss is a spokescake for the company and also this site, which I found via google. Apparently this cake swooped in from outerspace and pitched the idea of creating and selling an ice-cream/cookie/cake to Tom Carvel, the founder of Carvel, maker of cakes such as Fudgie the Whale and other stuff like that. Whatever happened doesn't really matter because soon after a crazy TV commercial was made to inform the public of this interplanetary confection. I've seen the commercial but I don't remember where and I've only been on the East Coast like once, years ago, so that may be when I saw the commercial, but that doesn't matter.

What matters is that I have finally found out how to get a Cookie Puss of my very own.

Quit that snickering.

As Carvel is not representing anywhere near Indianapolis Indiana, I did some research at the Carvel website so I could track down the nearest retailer of Cookie Puss. I had expectations of driving to Baltimore or something to satisfy my Cookie Puss curiosity but lo and behold, their website claims that my local Kroger's can make me a Cookie Puss. I thought this was too good to be true, so I decided to call a random Kroger with cake-making abilities to see if this was possible.

I chose Kroger 993-I at 1330 W. Southport Road because it was the biggest Kroger near me.
Here is the conversation:
Kroger person: Happy Holidays this is Travis. How can I help you?
C7: Uh, yeah, is this the bakery? You guys make cakes right?
KP: Yes sir.
C7: Okay, do you guys make a cake called (pause) Cookie Puss?
KP: (hesitating)Uhhh...(asks another employee)Do we make a cake called Cookie Puss?
other KP: (laughter)
KP: Uh, no we don't.
C7: Goddamit, they lied.
KP: Who lied?

But I was not discouraged so I chose another store from the list. Kroger #116-I, the closest Kroger to my crib, located at 680 Twin Aire Dr.
There I actually spoke to Pam (god bless you lady!) who actually called the Carvel supplier or whatever he is and she called me back after like two minutes. Unfortunately she called with bad news:
"He told me that the Cookie Puss is an East-Coast-only thing so if you want one you'll have to call someone on the East Coast or have Carvel ship it to you if you want it bad enough."
I thanked her for her efforts, hung up the phone and spat on the floor, much to the dismay of my boss, who happened to be standing nearby.

C7:"I can't get my Cookie Puss! Goddammit!"
Boss: (quizzical look in his eyes) "Sounds a bit more personal than I'd like to know about. And don't spit on the floors. It's unsanitary."

I kicked my computer in frustration and lamented my Cookie Puss-less fate. Denied! Why hath thou forsaken me Cookie Puss?!?!? When will I know your delicious outer-space taste?
So, that means I have to contact Carvel and check the logistics of this Cookie Puss shipping issue because goddammit, I want that cake. I shall check into this matter, dear readers and continue my quest for my anthropomorphic cake from outer space. Unless of course, one of you East Coast (U.S.A.) readers want to buy me a cake for my Birthday (and coincidentally, this blog's 2 year birthday) which occurs in February. Until then, I shall not rest, for want of cake.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Sweet Jesus Christ On A Crutch!
Kanye West Finally Successfully Sucks His Own Dick!

"Almost there!"

According to Kanye West has successfully fellated himself in front of another stunned reporter when asked about his second grammy nomination. Corey Moss, author of the afformentioned fluff-piece recently explained to chiseven in this mystuntedgrowth exclusive report:

"Okay, I was interviewing Kanye about how pissed off he'd be if he didn't win the album-of-the-year Grammy for his latest record and he started ranting about how people whose grandmothers die love his music and how hard he works for this music pushing buttons on a sampler and something about Jesus and the next thing I know, he's foaming at the mouth and all the sudden he just unbuckles his pants and starts sucking his own dick. I was shocked! I mean, Marilyn Manson had one of his ribs removed so he could do tht and he couldn't even suck his own dick! It was disgusting and amazing at the same time! Clearly Kanye's quest to bolster his own ego knows know bounds and he's not afraid to show it!"

According to Mr. Moss, West continued fellating himself as he clutched his diamond-encrusted Jesus piece until he finally took his own member out of his mouth and called John Legend and John Mayer (who were apparently waiting nearby in the shadows) over so they could finsh him off. Both apparently fought to be the one to finish him off but they were both denied by Satan who suddenly appeared in a flash of fire and brimstone and finished the job, leaving Kanye to ejaculate the latest album from Common onto John Mayer's cell-phone, causing the auto-dial to call West's cell-phone for the 502nd time that day. Kanye then thanked Satan for his help and promised Beazelbub that he would finish up his work on his album as soon as he found his copy of Eminem's drum CD. At this point, the details get hazy, as the reporter passed out from shock only to be revived later by a janitor sweeping up the floor. He quickly regained his wits and filed his story for mtvnews before contacting chiseven with this exclusive report.


Thursday, November 17, 2005

Hip Hop Is Pretty Fucking Boring These Days...
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I mean, just go to (I refuse to link to it) and peep the mediocrity they're peddling (Like Dose One's new album! Dose "most annoying rapper ever" One! Fuck!!!). I mean, c'mon, who the fuck would actually buy a Perceptionists Live album?!? I kind of like the Perceptionists (there's a few good tracks on that CD) but I certainly wouldn't want to purchase a full album of rappers doing a show live. What the fuck is ever memorable about a hip hop show that you would want to immortalize on CD? How many times can you hear an MC try to get the crowd all hype and say "c'mon" and "throw your hands up" and whatever other tired cliches most rappers use and have been using since the 80's?!? Live Hip Hop CD's are just not a good idea...even that BDP live album was boring. And don't bring up the Roots mu'fuckah, DO NOT bring up the Roots. My opinions are not to be debated. Of course, I would debate a stripper if I was in the champagne room but that is the only time. Yep.

What else?
Uhhh, I haven't seen it and I probably never will but that new 50 Cent movie seems to be a piece of shit which should only suprise you if you avidly follow the exploits of G-G-G-GUN-IT and have ever actually entertained the notion of Curtis Jackson acting convincingly in any manner in all existance ever. If you click on that link you will see some pretty funny quotes about the movie. My favorite is this:
"For those who don't take 50 Cent's talent for granted going in,
there's nothing to indicate what's so special about him, much less why he of all
people deserves to have a movie made about his experiences."
-- Peter Debruge, MIAMI HERALD

There's more and they're great. I wonder how long it'll take for this flick to go to the dollar movies (.50 cents on Tuesdays!!!) and be certified with a platinum ticket stub by the East Side of Indianapolis...I say, two weeks. Maybe three.

And then there's this ricockulous (nh) beef from the "we need an editor who will actually edit and not just smoke weed all day with his feet on his desk while listening to Dipset really really bad" hip hop news site:

Rhymefest, signed to Mark Ronson’s Allido Records, offered
words for "those UK rappers who signed with Damon Dash…they aint even f**king
representing the UK!"
Rhymefest concluded the interview by applauding Dizzee
Rascal and Tyas, calling the rappers more creative. "That's why with S.A.S., I
can’t give a f**k!"
The North London rappers have responded to
about the article and claimed that the Chicago rapper dissed them on a previous
mixtape making the rounds.
"Rhymefest has been told to say what he said
because of marketing,” group member Mayhem told “He doesn't
realize what he says will get him f**ked up in the UK. This is not a game. I rep
the street. Just because I don't go down the pub and eat fish and chips, it
doesn't mean I'm not from London. Rhymefest has no idea!Mayhem said that
Rhymefest’s comments have infuriated him and group member Mega and warnings have
already been issued to the rapper from across the Atlantic.
“How dare he come
to my city and diss me to a UK magazine! I see him when I go to Chicago, New
York and around London. When I see him next time, I'm gonna f**k him up! He’s
been around since 1991? And we only started hearing about him now? He's

I would like to extend an invitation to these S.A.S. fellows: I know where Rhymefest lives here in Indianapolis (or rather, just outside of). If you bring the proper amount of ganj then you can crash on my floor and serve that egotistical mu-fuckah a beat-down since I know that due to some issues with the law (which I haven't been able to confirm as far as news reports go but have talked to an eye-witness) he got his gun taken away from him. I don't really have any beef or animosity with Rhymefest but he does hang with Kanye so he's obviously guilty of being "a little-girl-that-talks-too-much-shit" by association. Plus, hip hop is boring as shit right now so if I could tape some British dudes beating a Midwest rappers arse I'd get a kick out of it and then post the video. Sounds like fun to me.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Muhammad Ali Is Still The Greatest Of All Time
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"This mu-fuckah's craaaaaazy."

I found this via atrios (linked to on the right). From the WaPo:

"Bush, who appeared almost playful, fastened the heavy medal around Muhammad Ali's neck and whispered something in the heavyweight champion's ear. Then, as if to say "bring it on," the president put up his dukes in a mock challenge. Ali, 63, who has Parkinson's disease and moves slowly, looked the president in the eye -- and, finger to head, did the "crazy" twirl for a couple of seconds...

The room of about 200, including Cabinet secretaries, tittered with laughter. Ali, who was then escorted back to his chair, made the twirl again while sitting down. And the president looked visibly taken aback, laughing nervously...

Ali, dressed in a suit, barely cracking a smile, received the loudest and most sustained applause of the day. And the always quotable man who said "I ain't got no quarrel with them Viet Cong" and "I am the onliest of boxing's poet laureates" delivered the most striking moment without speaking a word."

I'd like to think Ali wasn't just joking since W is crazy.

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