Little Ones
Damn, it’s hot outside.
My place smells like ass, wet ass.
I’m ashamed of myself. I need to clean, and mop, and wipe this place up. I mean it stinks in here.
And I wasn’t smelling all that great on the way home. I was on the bus and there was this foul scent coming from somewhere. I swear, I was checking myself, making sure it wasn’t coming from me. I knew I was smelling sweaty, but this was some booty, pissy, ass smell. And I was secretly trying to check the aroma coming from between my legs. I was sniffing and shit. And I was using my nose as a radar. This fine looking woman passed and I sniffed her. And I didn’t smell nothing nice. But I didn’t wanna put it on her. So, I kept sniffing around. I finally got off the bus and I didn’t smell anything. But I was outside. So, I waited until I got on the next bus. And the scent was gone. I mean I still smelled sweaty, but the ass scent was gone. And it was way cooler on this bus. So, I was relieved.
Pop Goes The Gmail
Program works like Hotpopper and YahooPops for Gmail accounts, where you can use your favorite Pop e-mail client with a Gmail web e-mail account.
Remembering the golden age of hip-hop
If pro ’80s hip-hoppers sound like Woodstock-era boomers (you know, the ones who think no good music happened after Exile on Main Street), it’s because they’re making basically the same argument. They, like boomer rockers, claim that big money and corporate greed killed their music’s creative spirit. And, like boomers, their music of choice was the soundtrack to a decade of reactionary change in their case, Ronald Reagan’s conservative revolution. And naysayers can point out the same holes in their argument: Like the promoters of the original Woodstock, rappers were as mercenary as their contemporary counterparts. Rap wasn’t commercial because no one knew what to do with it, not because of rappers high-minded aesthetic values.
Beebablee-blop. I remember when we didn’t have porno. We used to have to cut a hole in our parent’s closet wall and watch them go at it to get our rocks off.
AND WE LIKED IT!
Old hip-hoppers love it back in the day, especially the mid-to-late 80s. That was when hip-hop was real. Hip-hop these days suck like crap. I don’t buy the stuff. I hear the crap all the time. Rock sucks. Actually, rock does suck. Or at least MTV sucks. I got cable, and yet I can’t find a decent rock cable station that plays rock videos. MTV2 has that crappy rock countdown, but nothing that comes close to something like VH1-Soul, you know, a channel that plays rock all the time, old and new shit. All the music video stations play top 40 pop shit. You would think with over 200 channels, two weather stations, mind you, that someone like MTV might have come up with a all the time rock, or hip-hop channel. I think MTV has something like that for rock, but it isn’t in all the markets. I’m fed up. There’s all day country channels, all day jazz channels, but no all day rock or hip-hop channel. It’s all poopapadee-crap.
Pistons land ‘Sheed, McDyess
Word travels from Buss in Italy
Only four weeks have passed since the end of a season described as a dream and nightmare, and Buss already has parted ways with Phil Jackson and arranged a trade for O’Neal. The perception has been both moves were an attempt to appease Bryant, a charge Buss disputed Monday.
The anti-christ is in effect. I hate the Lakers. I was happy when they lost. But the bullshit happening in L.A. is sickening. How the fuck can one man have this much say in how a team operates. Kobe essentially got Shaq kicked the fuck off the Lakers. He got the coach fired. Gary Payton’s probably the fuck outta there. It’s weird as fuck. But it should lead to an interesting year next season. The East is back. You got Indiana, Detroit, Miami, and you can never tell what shit might happen in New York. An Eastern Conference team should be the favorites to win it all next year. And I’m lovin’ it. Just not like Justin. His love ain’t straight. Mine is.
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