Like I Was Sayin...
Yooooooo...wuddup fam? Long time, right? I promise that the fact that it seems like a "longtime" more and more these days is some sort of prolonged abberation. Let's catch up, though?
-- Last week was one of my most unproductive, yet productive weeks of my life. Remember that "gangsta rap" conversation I posted, based on an email string that me and my crew engaged in? Maybe u do, maybe u dont. Regardless, we've decided to tackle another question: What are the 10 Best/Greatest albums in black music since 2000 and what does that reveal about music in the new millenny? It all began as a way to view the new Gnarls Barkley.That's all I'll say about it right now. The point is, I have spent that past 7-10 days STUDYING music like a research professor, as has the crew. I'm talkin' scientific knowledge is being done on these albums. The conclusions will be incredible and for public consumption on my nigga's website, which I will put u onto soon.
-- Yall know the kid is a monster in the kitchen. In a different life I'd have liked to have a chef and open my own small restuarant and run that ish like a G. I mean, I have a gmail message that I use to keep recipes (I have 8). But the nigga Twist is the WORSE when it comes to very sinple things, like boiling eggs. I have to be the worse. Only retards and cripples are worse. And when I say retards, I mean a really dumb retard. And when I say cripple, I mean a def person, with no arms and no sense of smell.
I'm sittin in the crib last night, watching that new Sorkin drama with Matthew Perry (Studio 60, good stuff) and all of sudden I hear huge pop. Initially I thought I broke my chair, that was until I smelled the eggs burning and arrived in the kitchen to see sizeable chunks of burnt egg strewn all over the tile. I mean, I just cant get it right. It's an issue.
-- This is on some straight up sincerity: I'm CRAZY dissapointed that Whitney and Bobby are divorcing. I was so impressed with the resilience of that union. And I'm not jokin, this is real. But its like Jill Scott said, sometimes u gotta walk away "slowly, surely" from certain destructive loves. And there's was prolly that. Either that or Bobb was just rampant and blatant with his infidelity. But thats a sad situation man. All that perseverence down the drain.
-- Last week's Jazz Survivors negligence was inexcusable. I'll make it up this week. The problem I'm running into (which had nothing to do with last week's negligence) is that jazz isn't pop music, forced to adhere to the laws of radio. So most of the joints I wanna send are anywhere from 8-20 minutes. I can't send that through an email. Most accounts bounce it back. So I gotta resolve that.
-- Right now, its been a good 12 hours since I could locate my phone. This coming a few days after misplacing my wallet. Yep, the kid is a grown-up.
-- Last week was one of my most unproductive, yet productive weeks of my life. Remember that "gangsta rap" conversation I posted, based on an email string that me and my crew engaged in? Maybe u do, maybe u dont. Regardless, we've decided to tackle another question: What are the 10 Best/Greatest albums in black music since 2000 and what does that reveal about music in the new millenny? It all began as a way to view the new Gnarls Barkley.That's all I'll say about it right now. The point is, I have spent that past 7-10 days STUDYING music like a research professor, as has the crew. I'm talkin' scientific knowledge is being done on these albums. The conclusions will be incredible and for public consumption on my nigga's website, which I will put u onto soon.
-- Yall know the kid is a monster in the kitchen. In a different life I'd have liked to have a chef and open my own small restuarant and run that ish like a G. I mean, I have a gmail message that I use to keep recipes (I have 8). But the nigga Twist is the WORSE when it comes to very sinple things, like boiling eggs. I have to be the worse. Only retards and cripples are worse. And when I say retards, I mean a really dumb retard. And when I say cripple, I mean a def person, with no arms and no sense of smell.
I'm sittin in the crib last night, watching that new Sorkin drama with Matthew Perry (Studio 60, good stuff) and all of sudden I hear huge pop. Initially I thought I broke my chair, that was until I smelled the eggs burning and arrived in the kitchen to see sizeable chunks of burnt egg strewn all over the tile. I mean, I just cant get it right. It's an issue.
-- This is on some straight up sincerity: I'm CRAZY dissapointed that Whitney and Bobby are divorcing. I was so impressed with the resilience of that union. And I'm not jokin, this is real. But its like Jill Scott said, sometimes u gotta walk away "slowly, surely" from certain destructive loves. And there's was prolly that. Either that or Bobb was just rampant and blatant with his infidelity. But thats a sad situation man. All that perseverence down the drain.
-- Last week's Jazz Survivors negligence was inexcusable. I'll make it up this week. The problem I'm running into (which had nothing to do with last week's negligence) is that jazz isn't pop music, forced to adhere to the laws of radio. So most of the joints I wanna send are anywhere from 8-20 minutes. I can't send that through an email. Most accounts bounce it back. So I gotta resolve that.
-- Right now, its been a good 12 hours since I could locate my phone. This coming a few days after misplacing my wallet. Yep, the kid is a grown-up.
posted by Twistinado @ 1:44 PM
1 Comments:
At 7:16 PM,
Anonymous said…
you can probably do the jazz survivor series using dropload.com or yousendit.com. definitely dropload because you can send whole albums through that, but check yousendit too.
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