How to Write a #1 Radio Hit
Once again I apologize for taking a while in between posts, but this has quite possibly been the worst week of my life. I've been hit from all sides with some pretty devastating life changing events, so I've just been trying to deal with that stuff. Anyways, I figured it was time for some humor, it helps keep my mind off of things.
Now, being a fan and advocate of hip hop music, I'm doing this against my own best interests. However, after examining some of the songs that I've heard on the radio or have listened to at home, I am mystified by how some of these artists are even able to get these tracks recorded. I've come to a conclusion that the hip hop industry has some of the most undereducated personnel in the world. Take a look at some of these gems, many of them from successful albums or singles. If this is the barometer, I think I've found my true calling.
"She wants to be a lawyer, in other words shorty studies law" - Mr. Cheeks: Way to go Mr. Cheeks, you're breaking some new ground with this realization. This line reminds me of the wife of one of my baseball teammates. She thinks that everyone she talks to is the dumbest person in the world and will therefore proceed to explain to you the siginificance of everything she says, i.e: "Our car is at the shop. So, it's there because it's broken and we don't have a car now." Thanks, you and Mr. Cheeks would get along nicely.
"You ain't Russian so why you rushing?": This one is from our good friend
Nelly... more from him shortly. Getting back to the issue at hand, I'm not sure how being Russian would automatically imply that you would be rushing around everywhere, and more importantly I'm not really sure how this assumption would be present in the head of Nelly. Also from the St. Lunatic himself,
"Is that your ass or did your momma have a reindeer?" Once again, where does this association come into play? I'm not sure how a fully grown and functional man can mistake someone's ass for a reindeer or vice-versa, and I also don't understand where the person-in-question's mother comes into play either.
"I bang cock in Bangkok" - Ludacris: Luda, what you do in your spare time is your business and yours alone, but thanks for the update. Are you saying that we'll see you at the next rainbow parade?
"I got a way with words, I use words in ways" - Jin: You use words in ways? Good for you Jin, that puts you on equal footing with every single human on the planet that has the ability to speak or write. Congratulations on this momentous accomplishment!
"If money was height, you'd be a midget" - Nore: Believe it or not, Nore did not graduate with a doctorate, master's, or even a bachelor's degree in Philosophy. The use of the metaphor and the simile in hip hop is a common and effective practice, but only when done intelligently (read: when it makes some damn sense). I think the words "I'm richer than you" would have been more effective in this case. Also from Nore is this lyrical masterpiece, which reads
"I drink Hennessey straight, with tomato juice." OK, so let me get this straight... You drink Hennessey... and you drink it straight... with tomato juice. What the hell? did I miss something? I could have sworn that drinking something straight meant that you drank it by itself and not with something else such as tomato juice.
"I like them Chinese, Japanese, or even Asian" - Chingy: I'm not sure where Chingy went to elementary, junior high, or high school, but it must be in some parallel universe where Chinese and Japanese born people are not of ASIAN DESCENT. I mean, if he was that desperate for that line to rhyme, he could have just used two different ethnicities and still used the word "Asian". You'd think these guys might have producers or proofreaders that would catch this type of thing.
Lastly, but certainly not least, one Dr. Dre claims,
I get so much ass they call me an astronaut." I'm not sure how having a lot of sex qualifies the good Doctor to add the accomplisment of being an astronaut to his surely long list of achievements. Given these criteria, I suppose we could also call him an astrologer and and assistant manager.
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow (Maybe)
Firstly, I apologize for the ridiculously lame title that I chose for this entry. I just don't feel the creativity flowing right now. Secondly, I realize that i promised an entry on Saturday or Sunday and that it is now Thursday. You'd be surprised at how unmotivated I can be when I don't have jack squat to do. You'd also be surprised at how hard it is to come up with things to complain or be sarcastic about. I have a whole new respect for old people. I really need to get out and do something interesting so I can have more to write about. Anyways, on to the post...
It's now almost mid-May and I haven't cut my hair since December. For those of you who don't know me, I play basketball for Tyndale and I usually have my best friend Ryan buzz my head (not anywhere near skin, but a generally short haircut) for me on game days. It's tradition (or superstition). Well for one reason or another, we never got around to getting together on game days even once during the second semester and the tradition died. Now, I'm stuck with this unmanageable shag on my head and I need to get rid of it. The only problem is, I'm paranoid about going to a barber again, after what happened to me last time I went to one, way back in may 2004, and that's what this post is about.
My mom hates it when I buzz my hair and is always bugging me to get a nice haircut. Eventually I got tired of the harassment and decided to go to a barbershop and get my hair cut by so-called "professionals". I went to this place called "Frank & Phil's", a small Italian barbershop in West Toronto.
I went in and asked for a standard haircut, short back and sides, blended with a #2 clipper. Pretty easy to understand, right? Well I guess they misunderstood my request to the extent that they thought I was planning on entering the military. After one swipe of the clippers I almost had a heart attack. By the time they had finished, I was ready to kill someone. I had almost no hair on my sides and back of the head, and very minimal hair on the top, as if I my next task upon leaving their establishment was to be enlisted. I guess their definition of a #2 clipper is not the same as every other barbershop in Canada. As if to add insult to injury, they wanted to charge me $15 for this monstrosity of a hair cut, despite the fact that their standard adult cut was listed at $12. When I asked them about this anomaly, they told me that my hair was too long, so it costs more to cut it. Well, Einstein, of course my hair is too long, why the hell do you think I came to you in the first place?
What kind of shady establishment charges the average man $3 more for a hair cut just because their hair happenes to be 3.5 inches in length? When I questioned the owner of the establishment about this practice he proceeded to tell me that every place in Toronto charges as such. I mentioned that I had my hair cut at several places in the vicinity prior to that day, none of which have a pricing plan based on hair length. He replied that he knew of one such place, and that it was DOWNTOWN. I asked him for the name of the place so I could call and verify, to which he informed me that he didn't know the name, but he knew the address. I left the store and came back with the Yellow Pages from the phone booth down the street and told him to find it for me. He was obviously lying because he said he didn't know the street name or phone number. So, apparently he knew of one such place, but didn't know it's name, phone number, address, or anything else about it. Nice try, Frank.
After making my scene and ensuring Frank that I would make sure that no one I knew would ever seek his services ever again, I headed to work where I worked a 7 hour shift where I suffered relentlessly at the hands of co-workers and passersby who called me names such as "Sarge" or "Major". At that point I decided to finish the job that Frank had started and on my break used a set of clippers a friend lent to me to remove the rest of the army cut. They had shaved my hair so short on the sides and back that I couldn't use any attachments on the clippers and I had to take the guard off in order to make it all even. My head looked like a cue ball. Needless to say, I didn't need another haircut for about 6 months, and even then it was debatable that I did need one.
I wish I had some pictures to show you, but the ones that were taken have long been deleted to save me from further shame and embarrassment.
