Posted 3:10 PM by Alfred

As usual, the blah dee blah, I gotta lot of work to do, but yes I’m gonna holla, spit, shout, whatevs you wanna call it, at you for a minute, cuz I care about the contingent, I’m not like the other gamers in this so called exhibitionist tool shed rhyming session, la dee freakin dah.

Jennyeah’s posting, and she’s got a redesign bumping, and, well, you never know when she’s gonna take that shit down and bust a toilet flush, so peep while you can, na mean? Of course you do.

When I was in paris (ah, gay par-ee) at the musee d’orsay, I saw this painting, a monet, that I think was called blue flowers, but even if it wasn’t, damn if it didn’t remind me of the dr. octagon aka kool keith song of the same name, you know, the shit he did with the automator and dj shadow nodding his head in the background. Don’t forget that the invisible scratch picklz were repped by q-bert, ok um, all pertinent info, leave it to say that it was inspirational, and I aimed the video camera at the painting and like sang a little riff of it. the impressionists, that was the name of their crew, I think they even had special jackets printed up and like would ride around bitch-slapping old timers in front of the cafes. Even if I made that shit up it represents. that museum was fukn crip, especially the van gogh’s, which they have a boatload of.

Blows the Louvre away. Believe that shit. Louvre equals overrated and stuffy and full of like old dead like statues and shit, which are very good and all well and etcetera, but paintings of high intensity and like mind blowing other level shit abound in the orsay, and like van gogh even if his dismembered ear ain’t up in the hizzle it’s highly um felt, in some sense of the word, if not the literal or metaphorical. Shit, no respect in his lifetime, that could be me, except for the crucial fact I’ll likely get no respect after I’m dead neither. No big. Respect is highly overrated. I just want my benjamins and my diamonds. Bling bling beats a deep thought and a smile any day of the week except Tuesday and Thursday, and SHIT look at the calendar. I’m fucked.



As for questions of what this page has to do with kool keith, I AM kool keith, na mean? Nah, nah, not that one, the other one. The one that lives in my throat, like that kid from the shining. My imaginary friend that raps and tells me about horses' heads left in beds all across America. THAT kool keith, and if you don’t like it, the door is that way. It leads to my lawyer’s office, comin up the stairs in suits, bout to give a couple cops the boot, mix-a-lot style. See that’s how you know I’m not the real keith, cuz I’d prolly get bitch slapped for reppin sea-town in the same sentence as getting all elevated like that, but I don’t really care cuz I’m kind of a beyatch like that.

Anyone that can think of referencing Chewbacca uncircumcised is a genius. Thanks ock.

I mean, it’s kinda retarded apologizing for jackin’ keiths name, cuz he jacked doc doom’s name & doc ock’s name, two of the og gangsta marvel villains, in fact, the two most prominent doctors in the aforementioned universe, one with an iron mask and one with steel tentacles. Makes a lot of fucking sense when you think about it.

I am three people I am no people. I am one alligator backscrubber I am two Afghanastinian butlers, I am three broke college students smoking resin in a back bedroom off of telegraph avenue. I am all of the above I am none of the above I am Cher’s sometime humiliated gimp.

What are you? wait, don’t answer that. no, actually, do answer that. um, ya know whut, do whatever makes you comfortable. I don’t wanna get shit about it later if I made you like embark on some endeavor that violated your whatever the fuck you call it. and neither does Carlton, at least that’s what his official manifest says.

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