Baley

Yo,

Clipse - Virginia; is it me or is Shampoo the most straightforwardly gay nickname ever? I assume it has something to do with crack, but that's no excuse really... a proper criminal-underworld appellation should go something like Noodles, Patsy, or, perhaps if it fits and especially if it doesn't, Fat. Virginia needs to step its game up. Pronto. Grindin'!

Because lower-class African-American males tend to be obsessed with the concept of masculinity or, rather, constantly proving it: keeping it real, gripping the balls, bashing the gays, partaking in dog fights, take your pick. This obsession arguably stems from centuries of largely manual labour - which has traditionally been the man's - the big strong burly man's - domain. Fragility was, obviously, ill-advised. (hey look: I uncharacteristically ignored the funny!) hey guise, wait! I'm not racist! I'm just a racial realist!

The weekend kind of spoiled me: Vanya on 42nd St, The Science of Sleep, and Sideways. Also, I finally got a chance to see the Host on the big screen, though the print was pretty shoddy. The uncle guy kept reminding me of Dylan Moran. Black Book on Friday... should I let my hopes get like, up up up? Also: You Can Count On Me, The Manchurian Candidate (Demme), Millions, Juice and The Bourne Ultimatum. Oh and Devil In a Blue Dress.

I've become so numb! I can't feel you there! I've become so tired! So much more aware! Goddamn you, Michael Mann.

More like,Visible Bore... lol get it? hahaha... I bet you were all thinking it. In your heads. Fingers of speed, bitches.

Jay-Z & Linkin Park - Numb/Encore. ... what? I was just curious. PS: The beat is better than Kanye's.

Yeah, by the way, I get the same error. With both jpgs and gifs. (You have 24 attachments (9% used)! You have used 2.6MB of 30MB! Welcome to your control panel!)

50 seconds on average. Probably because my PC is rubbish and I installed the texture pack. I also like it how Alex blurts his entire life story to some jogging, puffed up dude he had just met.

I think the key to successfully playing this game is mitigating the load times with some marginally interesting TV programme. Thus far it's been a Lost marathon... hey, how much screentime do Adebisi and Augustus usually get?

There, there, Lou. :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xbxys70-0g ... does that count?

Zebraman. French Dub. English Subtitles. Also, I just got Snoop Dogg's Hood of Horror... Danny Trejo plays the Devil.

Get outta those shoes and grow wings, dear! Get outta those shoes and grow wings! Get outta those shoes and grow wings, dear! Get outta those shoes and grow wings! Get outta those shoes and grow wings, dear! Get outta those shoes and grow wings! Get outta those shoes and grow wings, dear! Get outta those shoes and grow wings!

Hey, we can't all plow the man-ass field. (There!)

(I was gonna post the awesome made flesh win New Reno ending wherein you , but Fraps let me down big time. I'm totally considering uninstalling it and writing a nasty e-mail, I mean, like, who's gonna stand up to these corporate giants who lure you in with their quasi-freeware software just to have it fail on you when you least expect it, if not me, I, the common consumer?)

So I was like gonna make a joke about how women are dumb because they buy into the spiel of such a closeted black cooch hater, but then I stopped because, while Hip Hop has been unmistakably eroding my respect for the female kin, I still harbor a lot of esteem and amity for the triumphs and innate skills of these flinty femmes who've so bravely dashed towards equality time and time again without a modicum of flagellation or vag-self-hate... I guess what I'm trying to say ladies is, I love you like a fat kid loves cake and I respect your feelings as a female and a human. (There.)

Your mother's a black hole! See, now that's how you alt-attack yourself... or that's how you would if you actually had the patience to create a new email address because your gmail account is already in use by an alt you can't even recall.... **** poop. Nirvana - Some song off In Utero... Frances whatever.

Cancer of the balls, obviously; even the greatest and most useful of gizmos must one day grind to a halt and pass into oblivion... or, uh, rather rot. (And if any of you scientist folks try to butt in again chirping about how one's testicles don't simply putrefy and smell of death, well: Give Me Proof. Called your bluff... there!) (Note that the Liberal Media might attempt to pass this off as just another case of kidney cancer gone tragically wrong.... but worry not for I shall not be dissuaded, I mean, it's not like anyone really knows anything about cancer. It's like one of those black holes... know what I mean?) Neutral Milk Hotel - A Baby For Pree.

Yo, (Spoiler?)

Tony Wilson died. Neutral Milk Hotel - Oh Comely.

Jay-Z - Can I Live; I was re-reading the Village Voice article on Reasonable Doubt's 10th year anniversary concert, and while I'm still 90% sure that live hip-hop is basically a waste of money (compared to other live music), I still kinda pine for a DVD.

Sadly, self-aggrandizing angst tends to follow careless, depthless - gooey - materialism. Jiggly, half-naked whores, I shall miss you.

Against Me! - Baby, I'm An Anarchist!