Wednesday, July 03, 2002

Alrighty then, just enough time for one more little dollop of ultrablognetication and then it's bye-bye Alfie. There will be no entries until Monday. There may be bloggers out there that take their little palm pilot and do entries from the top of banana trees and stuff like that, but I'm not one of them. So in the meantime, if you have a panic attack and need something to read, may I recommend the always entertaining Tony Pierce, for which you will find the link to your left.

Well I was never one for long goodbyes. Be good kiddies, mind your P's & Q's and don't forget to drink your Ovaltine. Remember it has essential vitamins and nutrients. Also, do something patriotic, like plant a tree, or visit your local dairy to see how milk is made. Or you could get really drunk and watch TV, that's pretty American I think.

I'd like to give a special shout-out to my super-cool sistah Mellie-Mel, thanks for the positive feedback - much appreciated!!

Until Monday - live long and prosper and use the schwartz.

I had something deep and insightful I was going to write today, but all I can think about right now is MAUI. That's right party people, Alfred and the Mrs. are going on vaycay starting today-yay. I'm working a half day this morning, getting everything in order, and then it's chillin like a villain until we fly back on Sunday. I've been to Maui before, but only with work, this will be the first pure pleasure Maui experience. Boo-Yah!

Now I remember what I was going to mention, and it's not really that deep or insightful, but it does open a window into the hypocritical money-centrified whored out society that we live in. Steroids in baseball. I'm catching up on the Sports Illustrateds and I finally got to check out their big expose on this topic, which was like maybe a month ago. Remember how this was the biggest story, what a scandal it was? Bud Selig, the corrupt piece of crap commissioner, said oh yeah, this is an issue we're gonna take real seriously, gotta get on this on, yessirree bobskee.

Bullshit. Baseball ain't gonna do jack-squat about steroids because it's helping market the game. Top of the sports report last night was baseball breaking a record with 62 home runs in one day. In one day!! These guys are shooting so much juice that records are dropping like flies. Do you think it's a coinicidence that shortstops hit 35 homeruns a year now? That the homerun record was shattered by Mark McGwire and Slammin Sammy?? And baseball isn't gonna do anything, because that's what John Q. Baseball-fan wants to see, homeruns, lots of em. Baseball players joke that it's a given in the locker room, it's no big deal all the steroids going around.

Now this is really fine with me, if these guys want to shoot this stuff in their ass great, I like homers too. But think about it: athletes are being allowed, even encouraged, by the system (MLB has no steroid testing), shrivelling up their nuts, blowing out there testosterone levels, basically endangering themselves, and no ones doing anything. This is what bothers me: In the meantime, people are in jail for distributing marijuana to AIDS patients and other seriously sick people. There are people serving huge prison terms for crimes involving pot, a plant which never hurt anybody, and meanwhile these millionaires are shooting up roids while everyone knows about it, and people are like, whatever. I don't see George Bush and his piece of crap anti-drug ads saying anything about steroids. Shit, this guy used to own the frikin Texas Rangers. I have to sit here and listen to the TV telling me that I support terrorists if I smoke weed, but it's okay for jockman joe to shoot steroids in his ass so he can get a better contract and afford his payments on his fukn Bentley?? FUK THAT.

You know why it is the way it is? Money. Baseball makes a shitload of money, especially with homers getting jacked over the fence every five minutes. And steroids make baseball a more attractive game to the consumer. Marijuana doesn't make anyone a legal dime. The only ones making money off marijuana are the dealers (illegally) and 7-11, Jack-in-the-Box, and other food places off of people's munchies at 2 AM. A Big Mac is more dangerous to your body than a friken bong hit. The sad thing is, though, that Marijuana will never be legal as long as the pharmaceutical companies' powerful lobbies are all over the jock of every politician within 20 feet. They make way too much money selling fake pot to cancer patients that doesn't work nearly as good as the real thing.

Something for you to think about while you're watching America's past time over 4th of July weekend.

Oh yeah, and go Dodgers.

Tuesday, July 02, 2002

Underground Hip Hop Show - Part II

All right Aquaman, I don't want to leave y'all hangin. First off, let me get one thing clear: there was no stomach issues on Thursday night. The horrors were all on Friday. Thursday good. Friday bad very very bad. Thursday fun. Friday painful. OK now that's clear.

Anyway I think I left off the story around beer # 6, which was soon followed by #'s 7, 8 and 9 in quick succession. Here is where events get a little blurry. But let me go backwards, before I can go forward. As some of you may know, I have a policy that if I am ever going somewhere and there may be a situation in which I will become inebriated, I always bring my faithful chauffeur, Harvey. Harvey is a rabbit. A very friendly, somewhat pesky, but always reliable 6'4 rabbit. No one can corroborate this story as I usually only ride with Harvey alone. One person met him, this was Bartley a few years ago, but Bartley's recollection of a number of events, especially those concerning the Wave, are hazy at best and outright lies at worst.

Anyhoo, Triangle Prism was doing their thing on stage, I was doing my thing on the dance floor. There was a synergy, a connection, all eyes were on me as I did my triple scope electric slide over and back, over and back. There was a simultaneous outburst of applause after the third song and my finishing stomp on the dance floor. I think it was at this point I emphasized to G-Dog that it was his turn to get the next round, which ended up being my last.

As we swigged the beers, we bounced around in tune with the music, checking out the scene, enjoying the moment. Gulp gulp, my drink was done before too long. Looked at the clock, 12:30, time to bounce. Gotta work in the AM. Told G-Dog & Mike I'm outtie like Kirk Gowdie on a straight up bonumbo tip. The crowd was bumming, I think they were hoping for another triple scope e-slide, but a man's gotta do, ya know. I said peace out to Propaganda and wished him good luck. This guy has mad skillz on the mic, but skillz don't always pay the billz. I mean look at Canibus, he spits like a madman, but have you ever heard a Canibus album? I haven't.

Anyway, I knew Harvey would be waiting in the car to chauffeur me back to my boss's casa. (Crowds make Harvey nervous, he prefers to stay in the car and bump the Doors) I stumbled out into the night and headed toward the Ala Wai Canal road, where I'd scored a prime parking spot. That was when the only serious issue of the evening began. I walked a half-block down the Ala Wai, no sight of my vehicle. I walked another block, thinking, okay I'm faded maybe I parked further away. No sight. Oh shiznididdly the car got towed. I'm screwed. Or the car got stolen - even worse. Gotta call the wife and have her come pick me up. This will not be good. So I start running back down the street in a blind panic. I then paged Harvey but he must have been passed out - (too much rabbit-nip maybe, that vagrant long eared sumbitch!!!).

Oh, there it is. That simultaneous moment of happiness and knowing you're a moron. I had parked so close that I'd crossed the street beyond my car already and walked about a mile past it in a stupor. Harvey was passed out as I guessed, nose and whiskers orange from what appeared to have been a serious carrot binge. Stupid fukn rabbit. I woke him up and said yo Harv whats up, I gotta get home and crash.

And that's it! We bumped Jay-Z volume 3 all the way home, and I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

In the morning there was slight headache.
This gradually became a hell-like state that I don't want to relive thank you very much.

As for Harvey, I haven't seen him for a few days, but he always pops up when you're least expecting him. I'm not worried.

All right I've been busting my ass all morning. Time to kick a little knowledge to y'all.

Devin the Dude is the best rapper you've never heard of. Check this album out. I wouldn't say he's the most original guy in the world, cuz his subject matter is pretty limited. It's basically booze, bud, and bitches. But it's the way he's so out there about it. His attitude is like, all I care about is this, so that's what I'm gonna rap about. It's refreshingly honest. Like the cover of the album. Who else is on their album cover sitting on the toilet, reading the newspaper, smoking a phattie? The one place you might have heard this guy, unless you're from Houston, is he was on a few cuts on Dr. Dre's 2001 album.

Stanley Kubrick was a frikkin genius. Every time I see one of this guy's movies I just want to cry that he's gone. Was catching some of Eyes Wide Shut on HBO last night. Now this wasn't Stan's best work, but it blows away the best movies a lot of other directors have made. You can just tell you're watching a Stanley Kubrick movie, the way he uses the camera, the silent moments, the editing, the performances he gets out of his actors. Next time you watch this movie, check out the way he uses colors, especially blue and red. Phenomenal. Part of me wonders if this movie isn't what broke up Tom and Nicole. That scene where they have the intense conversation over a joint, where she basically tells him she wanted to do this military guy one time, is just way out there. It's so honest, it's like too honest. And Tom & Nicole play it to the bone, I mean they nail it I think, especially Nicole. I mean, maybe that whole ordeal of making that movie together, which was such in indepth study of a relationship, was just a little to honest for them, maybe opened up some issues that they'd been putting on the good ol consciousness back burner.

Anyway that was in my head. I liked Eyes Wide Shut, even though it lags at points. I just really love Kubrick movies. My favorite flick of all time is Clockwork Orange. I can't think of a better war movie than Full Metal Jacket. The Shining was unbelievable, best Stephen King movie bar none. (I didn't care for Misery, really, the book was a lot better.)

This guy knew what the hell he was doing. Sucks he's gone.

Gutenmorgen mein freunds. Well seeing as I'm bailing to Maui tomorrow, I gotta catch up on work. Which means I don't have the proper time to entertain you, my dear audience, in the fashion befitting a gentleman. Anyway, in the meantime, read Tony, or maybe the hosemonster, or even see what Snoop's up to. I'll be bumping D-12, so don't worry about me.

I'll drop by later to see whuts up.

Monday, July 01, 2002

OK here it is. The inside scoops on Thursday night's drunken debauchery. Alright it wasn't anything too extreme, but it was good times with a minimum of clear thinking. The first mistake I made this evening was eating spinach ravioli with a very complicated Italian sauce which we found in my boss's house's cupboard. The wife and I are staying at my boss's house this week while he's on the mainland. His house is really nice with a phat view of the ocean, but one problem, they never cook at home, which means you have no frikken clue how long any item of food in this house has been there. So anyway, I had this ravioli and decided I'd have a Corona with dinner. This decision would come back to haunt me. I am convinced today, with all the evidence lined out on an appropriate timeline, that this ravioli was the catalyst by which the nine beers in my stomach formed a revolt that would not be quieted until almost 8 PM Friday night.

Anyway. Beer #1, a Corona with a nice green lime slice with the aforementioned ravioli dinner. A delicious spread. Yeah and so were those little sugar cookies that the evil mom in Flowers in the Attic gave her kids. It was an evil meal that would serve as a scapegoat for the repurcussions of a night of wanton drunkenness. Well I needed to change clothes, and Mrs. Pennyworth was not interested in the underground hip hop show, so I headed to our house for a shower, a change of clothes, and a Heinekin. So far so good. Got dressed and headed over to my buddy G-dog's house. On the way over I picked up a sixer of Moosehead. Hung out at with G-Dog and Mike, drank said beers, sparked a bizowl, and headed out.

Got into Waikiki & stopped at 7-11 to grab some cash. A really drunk tourist from the mainland was having some serious issues with the ATM. Now, this is usually a serious pet peeve for me, but I let it go, as I was feeling good and, what was the hurry? Anyway, he finally figured it out, as I joked with him about whatever. My good attitude would prove beneficial for karmic purposes as I made an ass out of myself on my own attempt at cash withdrawal. I don't know why, but I was having ATM issues, I'm usually clutch city at the ATM, but so it goes.

Walked over to the Wave and the DJ was busting some nice tunes. I offered to score the first round, which for me was a Corona. G-Dog commented on the sausageness of the scene at that point. I had to agree. G-Dog's buddy Mike seemed to know everyone who was anyone in the joint. I guess it was a going away party for one of the guys from Quadrophonix, who I think are a rap outfit with parts of their crew in Cali & Hawaii. We were introduced to a few guys who I guess were DJ's and rappers, and I nodded my head and said wuddup, having no idead who they were. It was around this time that we noticed on the screen that Heinekins were on special for $3. I had just gotten gaffled on the first round, but whatevers I was feeling good.

So anyway, it was during the first round of drinks that a white guy with a backpack and backwards hat asks me what time it is. I tell him. He thanks me. Next round was on G-Dog. Heinekins of course, on special. So I'm cruising around on the dance floor, the DJ was still spinning, and there's a small circle of guys freestyling. I notice that the guy with the backwards hat that asked me what time it is in the circle. A guy with dreadlocks was spitting a pretty nice flow. Then he passed it the the backwards hat guy and SHIT, this guy just started busting! Straight off the top of his head, he was just ripping the place apart. The people in the circle were going nuts. Mike then tried to spit a verse which was a bad idea following this guy. Anyway, I later talked to the guy and his tag is Propaganda, keep an ear out. He lives in Hawaii now, but he's from NYC.

So then the show started. The first group on stage was a guy with dreds and girl with dreds. They were pretty good, the girl had a nice singing voice & a nice flow. The second group was five guys called Triangle Prism. I was all stoked cuz one of the guys had a Cal Berkeley shirt on. They were solid spitters all five of them. Super fun times, the crowd was pumped up, the place was jumpin. This group was underground hip-hop, I mean, one of the guys had on a shirt that said "Whitford Womens Football." I just thought that was cool. I mean that's what hip-hop is all about in a lot of ways, I think: super-obscure references to shit that you normally wouldn't think is cool at all. It's language and music coming together. It's people coming together to party and have fun and celebrate life.

Good times, good times.

Happy Birthday Ant!

Ant is the super coolest foolio in all the land. I call him Tone-Dogger, but he's professionally known as Super Ant Boy.

Super Ant Boy currently holds the Guinness record for most consecutive days wearing a Town & Country T-Shirt (537 days, 1987-88). In a move that would later be copied by Cal Ripken Jr., the streak was voluntarily broken in the summer of 88.

Best man at my wedding, my main homey since kindergarten, my brother-in-law, the keeper of the secret scrolls of Amirillion, and probably the biggest pimp on the planet, ladies and gentlemen I present to you SUPER ANT BOY.

You go boy, keep living the legend and shake off the playa hatas!!!!

I hereby announce that this is super ant boy day.

Let it be known, go forth and tell the country side, alert the peasants that super ant boy is coming and to bear gifts of jimmy-hats and in-n-out double-doubles, cuz super ant boy ain't fukn around no more.

peace out

I'm back. I'm back. I'm back and I got a bigger gat.

Well I am officially bumpin up in here now. Picked up the Philips mini system at Circuit City this weekend and, well I want to say I'm devirginizing it, but it was already violated, as I ended up with the one on the shelf, their last one, but I got a nice little discount and it sounds kriptonik so who's complaining? So what does Alfred bump to christen this mofo?

The HILL bitch!!!! album #1. There really was no other choice. I considered Snoop's Doggystyle, but in the end, Cypress won. I had to go with my gut, I felt that it was the right thing to do, even though fukn Sen-Dog never shows up when they play Hawaii, but, that's water under the bridge.

Is it because it's funky that you love it? Here's another lyrical puffett!!!! Damn, how do they come up with that shit? genius.

All right I got a boat load of work to catch up on. Friday was hell but I had a beautiful weekend, so it's all good.

And I know, dear reader, I owe you the dillio on the underground hip hop show Thursday night. Don't worry, I even took notes, which I was able to kind of read yesterday. Isn't it weird how at the club you don't think you're that wasted, and then the next day you're like FUK i was triznashed.

anyway- till later, keep it oh so real my peeps