MAKESHIFT - "Louder" Official Music Video HD from Max Albert on Vimeo.
Well done my dookie. Keep the movement movin!!
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Random Thoughts and a New Shitlist
Fuck, it's been a minute since I've cracked away on the ol' keyboard. What can I say? I've been bored, Hip Hop is of no interest to me, and that's supposed to be the life-blood of this blog. Fuggit, were switchin' it up for a minute...
It's been 12 years in the making, but I finally got the english bulldog I've always wanted. His name: Lord Sebastian Von Eldrich, Duke of Le Cross. Call him what you want, just don't call him late for dinner...
The Shitlist revisited:
1. Stepping in dog shit barefooted in the middle of the night, and having to wash that foot off in cold water cause you don't want to wait for the water to heat up, as you were obviously sleeping, and wish more than anything to get back to sleep.
2. The last 3 Jay-Z albums. I was, at one point, one of the biggest Jay stans around, Smalls took over that title, and he can try all he wants but he will not sway me on this position.
3. New jack bloggers, biting other people's shit.
4. Unemployment, shit was fun for like, 2 weeks, now I need federals to do things, such as feed the Lord...
5. Debt/Bein broke. Some people love the life of being a mooch, I personally can't fuckin stand it and it hurts my soul to ask to borrow money.
6. Selling the Jeep. Personal friends are the only ones who get this. I won't elaborate anymore, just suffice it to say that the jeep is on the chopping block after 10 long years of blood, sweat, and tears.
7. Ex girlfriends and their punk ass boyfriends. You know where to find me, cowards, and if you don't, just ask.
8. People suggesting what I should write about, if I wanted to write about "your" idea, I would have already done so. Please, by all means, start a blog and write your feelings down, I'm sure 3 people would love to read it..
9. Pandora.com not getting the hint when I press the "dont like" button.
10. Holiday music.
11. Walking into a store that is ALREADY playing Jingle Bells, I swear to god if I worked retail I would kill someone after about 3 hours of that christmas music loop.
12. Festive people. Fuckin die. Halloween is the only holiday worth celebrating, otherwise, just give me gifts and STFU.
13. Text wars. More importantly, having day long conversations/arguements of no consequence whatsoever.
14. Annonymous hatred in the comments section. Blow me. Cowards.
15. No health insurance.
16. 90% of the world.
17. Justin Bieber. Limit 1 per customer on his doll. Get the FUCK OUTTA HERE.
18. That annoying little fucker "Fred" from youtube having his own doll at toys R us.
19. Falling on my skateboard on a busy street and crushing my elbow at 27 years old.
20. Being held accountable for any action I choose to make. No, I am now, what i was 3 years ago, and have no plans of changing that.
That oughta hold you over for the day.
Ollie loves you. Bitch.
P.S. I still fuckin hate Joe Rogan more than most other humans... more on that later.
P.S.S. I can't believe I didn't watch the first season of Jersey Shore. God those guys are disturbingly entertaining.
-Ollie da G.O.D.
It's been 12 years in the making, but I finally got the english bulldog I've always wanted. His name: Lord Sebastian Von Eldrich, Duke of Le Cross. Call him what you want, just don't call him late for dinner...
The Shitlist revisited:
1. Stepping in dog shit barefooted in the middle of the night, and having to wash that foot off in cold water cause you don't want to wait for the water to heat up, as you were obviously sleeping, and wish more than anything to get back to sleep.
2. The last 3 Jay-Z albums. I was, at one point, one of the biggest Jay stans around, Smalls took over that title, and he can try all he wants but he will not sway me on this position.
3. New jack bloggers, biting other people's shit.
4. Unemployment, shit was fun for like, 2 weeks, now I need federals to do things, such as feed the Lord...
5. Debt/Bein broke. Some people love the life of being a mooch, I personally can't fuckin stand it and it hurts my soul to ask to borrow money.
6. Selling the Jeep. Personal friends are the only ones who get this. I won't elaborate anymore, just suffice it to say that the jeep is on the chopping block after 10 long years of blood, sweat, and tears.
7. Ex girlfriends and their punk ass boyfriends. You know where to find me, cowards, and if you don't, just ask.
8. People suggesting what I should write about, if I wanted to write about "your" idea, I would have already done so. Please, by all means, start a blog and write your feelings down, I'm sure 3 people would love to read it..
9. Pandora.com not getting the hint when I press the "dont like" button.
10. Holiday music.
11. Walking into a store that is ALREADY playing Jingle Bells, I swear to god if I worked retail I would kill someone after about 3 hours of that christmas music loop.
12. Festive people. Fuckin die. Halloween is the only holiday worth celebrating, otherwise, just give me gifts and STFU.
13. Text wars. More importantly, having day long conversations/arguements of no consequence whatsoever.
14. Annonymous hatred in the comments section. Blow me. Cowards.
15. No health insurance.
16. 90% of the world.
17. Justin Bieber. Limit 1 per customer on his doll. Get the FUCK OUTTA HERE.
18. That annoying little fucker "Fred" from youtube having his own doll at toys R us.
19. Falling on my skateboard on a busy street and crushing my elbow at 27 years old.
20. Being held accountable for any action I choose to make. No, I am now, what i was 3 years ago, and have no plans of changing that.
That oughta hold you over for the day.
Ollie loves you. Bitch.
P.S. I still fuckin hate Joe Rogan more than most other humans... more on that later.
P.S.S. I can't believe I didn't watch the first season of Jersey Shore. God those guys are disturbingly entertaining.
-Ollie da G.O.D.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Agenda Tradeshow August 2010
Here is a photo recap from my recent excursion to Agenda's fall show.
Fuck Krew:
Free beers! Oh, no only for buyers. Wack. Youre going to deny beers to the writer of the most influential blog on the web? Well, fuck your skinny jeans and long hair cornballs. Krew used to be that ish, now they have fallen off. Not a good look...
The Grenade crew: Kass, Dingo, Vito, and others...
Dante Ross and Felix Arguelles (spelling?)
Dante Ross is my favorite white boy for real, and Felix has been a staple in skateboarding for decades. Unfortunately for Felix, he's now pushin that Famous Stars and Straps stuff a little too hard for my tastes... but hey, to each their own. It surely doesn't take away from his contributions to the world of skateboarding tho.. And what can you say about Dante? This dude used to be the road manager for Eric B. and Rakim. He managed Ol' Dirty Bastard for cryin outloud.. This dude is so fuckin' hip hop.. See video below from theberrics.com series "hip hop history 101"...
Cute little birdie at the Agenda booth, she was cool enough to watch my backpack for me. I see you Monica. She didnt want me to take her picture, so obviously I did...
Drama in the building..
Side note, the Young & Reckless brand is run by nothing but 40+ men with bad haircuts... Here is my best attempt to get some evidence of these old bastards..
Is that a wave cut? Jeezussss homie not a good look.
My feelings on Young & Reckless go like this.. I think Drama is pretty funny on the fantasy factory stuff, I think he had a good idea for his branding, and with Rob Dyrdek's help, this company should be HUGE, unfortunately, the designs are stale and boring, the management are a bunch of old dudes tryin to stay hip and relevant, and overall this brand is just lacking. Add to that the fact that Drama's "manager" is a tool belt, and the shit just doesn't get my stamp of approval. Sorry Drama, but youre still my boy..
Snoop made an appearance:
HAHA... So the story goes like this.. I got incredibly drunk early in the day. Like, I started on the sauce around 10 am, drank solid thru 4:30 or so, and went back to the homie's crib with a genius plan... I'm gonna take a quick nap, and recharge the batteries then hit the club hard.. Unfortunately I woke up more drained than when I went to sleep, and barely had it in me to go to the after party. But I did indeed go, unfortunately I missed the Warren G. performance, but such is life. I'd like to take a second to give a shout out to Panda from partywithpanda.com for takin a shitload of flicks that I missed when I left a bit early that night. If you didnt get what you were lookin for, check out his site, he did a great photo essay, or whatever you want to call it..
On to the Black Bull chop house for the evening's festivities..
This homie was AGGRESSIVE with his pursuit of chicks, it was no joke...
-Oliver Wrist
Fuck Krew:
Free beers! Oh, no only for buyers. Wack. Youre going to deny beers to the writer of the most influential blog on the web? Well, fuck your skinny jeans and long hair cornballs. Krew used to be that ish, now they have fallen off. Not a good look...
The Grenade crew: Kass, Dingo, Vito, and others...
Dante Ross and Felix Arguelles (spelling?)
Dante Ross is my favorite white boy for real, and Felix has been a staple in skateboarding for decades. Unfortunately for Felix, he's now pushin that Famous Stars and Straps stuff a little too hard for my tastes... but hey, to each their own. It surely doesn't take away from his contributions to the world of skateboarding tho.. And what can you say about Dante? This dude used to be the road manager for Eric B. and Rakim. He managed Ol' Dirty Bastard for cryin outloud.. This dude is so fuckin' hip hop.. See video below from theberrics.com series "hip hop history 101"...
Cute little birdie at the Agenda booth, she was cool enough to watch my backpack for me. I see you Monica. She didnt want me to take her picture, so obviously I did...
Drama in the building..
Side note, the Young & Reckless brand is run by nothing but 40+ men with bad haircuts... Here is my best attempt to get some evidence of these old bastards..
Is that a wave cut? Jeezussss homie not a good look.
My feelings on Young & Reckless go like this.. I think Drama is pretty funny on the fantasy factory stuff, I think he had a good idea for his branding, and with Rob Dyrdek's help, this company should be HUGE, unfortunately, the designs are stale and boring, the management are a bunch of old dudes tryin to stay hip and relevant, and overall this brand is just lacking. Add to that the fact that Drama's "manager" is a tool belt, and the shit just doesn't get my stamp of approval. Sorry Drama, but youre still my boy..
Snoop made an appearance:
HAHA... So the story goes like this.. I got incredibly drunk early in the day. Like, I started on the sauce around 10 am, drank solid thru 4:30 or so, and went back to the homie's crib with a genius plan... I'm gonna take a quick nap, and recharge the batteries then hit the club hard.. Unfortunately I woke up more drained than when I went to sleep, and barely had it in me to go to the after party. But I did indeed go, unfortunately I missed the Warren G. performance, but such is life. I'd like to take a second to give a shout out to Panda from partywithpanda.com for takin a shitload of flicks that I missed when I left a bit early that night. If you didnt get what you were lookin for, check out his site, he did a great photo essay, or whatever you want to call it..
On to the Black Bull chop house for the evening's festivities..
This homie was AGGRESSIVE with his pursuit of chicks, it was no joke...
-Oliver Wrist
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
.Gifs are Great for a Laugh
8 bit Vanilla Ice:
Thuggin:
And this is just classic:
P.S. This just so happens to be the 500th post on the BAMA. In all honesty, I really thought I would have gotten to this landmark much quicker, but the reality is simple, I got sidetracked alot over the last year and lost focus, but I'm back, and workin hard for you folks again. LOVE.
-the Ollie 500
Damn: No Shame in the Streetwear Game These Days
Above is the knock off, out right bite of an otherwise great concept piece by TITS brand... Slowly but surely becoming one of my favorite clothing lines. Their work is super clean, and emcompasses one of my 3 favorite things in this world... TITS. (If you're wondering, my 2 other favorite things in this world are ME and ASSES.)
And the original piece by TITS...
Some cats are just shameless when it comes to taking someone's ideas and making them their own. If you want to blatantly jack someone's ideas, at least credit the source... Thats all I'm sayin...
Check out TITS by clickin the red and support a solid line.
-Olls
Monday, July 26, 2010
Big Shit Poppin', Little Shit Stoppin':
Why in the Fuck is T.I. still getting movie roles? More importantly, How is this dude sharing the same on-screen time as Stringer Bell? With a muhfuckin' british accent? Stringer Bell for president, for real. I swear, I damn near, wait, scratch that, I did tear up when they waxed Stringer on The Wire. I mean, dude was cold, calculated, pure business and grime, with no emotions whatsoever... but ultimately, The boss has got to remain the boss, and Stringer had to go. He will go down as my third favorite character from the Wire, behind Michael. and Marlo Stanfield. Which brings me to my point, didn't mean to run off a recap of why The Wire was so dope (read: IT WAS THE GREATEST CRIME SAGA EVER) but how is it that this skinny lil dude right here:
gets more street credit in a suit than this muhfucka right here:
Wait, you might be wondering where this is all coming from. I promise I have a point. This new movie is coming out. It's called Takers, and here's the trailer:
I'm gonna see it. Call me easily entertained, but give me Paul Walker, Stringer Bell (Idris Elba, but will always be Stringer in my mind) in a british accent, and mr. "whoop that trick" himself C.Breezy and Imma watch it. Sprinkle in some Hayden Christensen (I know, he's awful, but Im nostalgic and I loved Star Wars despite how terrible it was) and a plot about a bank heist with the female lead being Zoe Saldana, you've got a hot ticket...
That is until you cast T.I. as the villain. I mean, really dog? who is Jamie Hector's (Marlo Stanfield) agent? This dude needs more work. I want him on the screen all the time. I have a role saved for him when and if I do ever finish writing my masterpiece (read: he plays Oliver Wrist, as Marlo Stanfield, never breaking character ever, haha)... I mean really tho, was there ever any harder bosses' talk than this:
"My name was in the STREETS?!?!"
ICE-FUCKING-COLD.
Man I miss The Wire, somebody needs to get it together and write this show another 5 seasons. I need to stop here, otherwise I'll go all damn day.
-Ollie da Don
------------------UPDATE---------------------------------------------
Yeah I know Stringer is british, he just does the "not british" role so well that when he goes back to the accent, its like he's discovered a whole new role and an untapped market as the master of british brothas or some wild shit. I'ont'know mayne. Just, you be cool like how you be cool, aight? I aint seent you and you aint seen me? aight.. WATER.
gets more street credit in a suit than this muhfucka right here:
Wait, you might be wondering where this is all coming from. I promise I have a point. This new movie is coming out. It's called Takers, and here's the trailer:
I'm gonna see it. Call me easily entertained, but give me Paul Walker, Stringer Bell (Idris Elba, but will always be Stringer in my mind) in a british accent, and mr. "whoop that trick" himself C.Breezy and Imma watch it. Sprinkle in some Hayden Christensen (I know, he's awful, but Im nostalgic and I loved Star Wars despite how terrible it was) and a plot about a bank heist with the female lead being Zoe Saldana, you've got a hot ticket...
That is until you cast T.I. as the villain. I mean, really dog? who is Jamie Hector's (Marlo Stanfield) agent? This dude needs more work. I want him on the screen all the time. I have a role saved for him when and if I do ever finish writing my masterpiece (read: he plays Oliver Wrist, as Marlo Stanfield, never breaking character ever, haha)... I mean really tho, was there ever any harder bosses' talk than this:
"My name was in the STREETS?!?!"
ICE-FUCKING-COLD.
Man I miss The Wire, somebody needs to get it together and write this show another 5 seasons. I need to stop here, otherwise I'll go all damn day.
-Ollie da Don
------------------UPDATE---------------------------------------------
Yeah I know Stringer is british, he just does the "not british" role so well that when he goes back to the accent, its like he's discovered a whole new role and an untapped market as the master of british brothas or some wild shit. I'ont'know mayne. Just, you be cool like how you be cool, aight? I aint seent you and you aint seen me? aight.. WATER.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Dave Macdowell Rules
Monday, July 12, 2010
Trampskating
Thanks to Ignored Prayers for postin this last week...
They really took it to the next level with this shit. I remember we used to bounce hard on the old decks at my boy Jeremy's trampoline on the regular, but these guys took it to a whole new arena... The thing is, Im not sure if I believe these dudes can actually skate tho. It might strictly be a trampoline thing... Props either way tho, they got some super techy shit layed out in this jammy..
-Olls
They really took it to the next level with this shit. I remember we used to bounce hard on the old decks at my boy Jeremy's trampoline on the regular, but these guys took it to a whole new arena... The thing is, Im not sure if I believe these dudes can actually skate tho. It might strictly be a trampoline thing... Props either way tho, they got some super techy shit layed out in this jammy..
-Olls
"Listen with Caution.. Harlem is BACKKK"
Quote courtesy of young Smalls the world class traveler/little big brother.
It's been way too long coming, but the world was ready an waiting, so Cam and Jimmy did what any money hungry entrepreneurial hood rich players would do... They bit the bullet and squashed the beef. (No Homo). I couldn't be happier about this. Dipset is back and more swagged (read: i hate that word) up than ever.
For real, and I aint bullshittin', Smalls can vouch for this, along with anyone else that has been in a vehicle with me in the last 6 months... I am listening to nothing but emo'd out scream pop punk metal garbage. Why? Because hip hop has sucked so bad in the last couple of years, save for a few select artists that are fam, and keep close to your boy's heartstrings (pause)... But, With the return of dipset and the bragadocious over the top ignorance that we've all become accustomed to, coupled with outlandish samples and percussion courtesy of Arab Muzik, I can officially say I am excited to listen to hip hop music again..
P.S. The Clipse are still the end all be all of cocaine raps, but Dipset will forever keep a spot close to my chest muscle..
-Ollie the Ruler
P.S.S. Am I super late to this? and did Max B. actually get life over that murder wrap? man, hip hop has been so stale i havent even cared to stay in the loop as of late.
It's been way too long coming, but the world was ready an waiting, so Cam and Jimmy did what any money hungry entrepreneurial hood rich players would do... They bit the bullet and squashed the beef. (No Homo). I couldn't be happier about this. Dipset is back and more swagged (read: i hate that word) up than ever.
For real, and I aint bullshittin', Smalls can vouch for this, along with anyone else that has been in a vehicle with me in the last 6 months... I am listening to nothing but emo'd out scream pop punk metal garbage. Why? Because hip hop has sucked so bad in the last couple of years, save for a few select artists that are fam, and keep close to your boy's heartstrings (pause)... But, With the return of dipset and the bragadocious over the top ignorance that we've all become accustomed to, coupled with outlandish samples and percussion courtesy of Arab Muzik, I can officially say I am excited to listen to hip hop music again..
P.S. The Clipse are still the end all be all of cocaine raps, but Dipset will forever keep a spot close to my chest muscle..
-Ollie the Ruler
P.S.S. Am I super late to this? and did Max B. actually get life over that murder wrap? man, hip hop has been so stale i havent even cared to stay in the loop as of late.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Real Nigga to Real Nigga
"Don't be affraid to grab a titty, slap a ass cheek, whateva.. just do what you feel"
Whew, this might be the best video I've come across in a minute. Big ups to IP for posting it a couple weeks back...
Yeah, it's close to 7 minutes long, but worth every second. If you dont feel like watching 7 minutes of this hood ass cat speakin on these hoes, just jump to about the 3:30 mark and listen until about 4:30, if that doesn't inspire you to watch the whole video, check your pulse nukkuh, cause you dead..
Step yo pimp game up!!
-Ollie da Don
Whew, this might be the best video I've come across in a minute. Big ups to IP for posting it a couple weeks back...
Yeah, it's close to 7 minutes long, but worth every second. If you dont feel like watching 7 minutes of this hood ass cat speakin on these hoes, just jump to about the 3:30 mark and listen until about 4:30, if that doesn't inspire you to watch the whole video, check your pulse nukkuh, cause you dead..
Step yo pimp game up!!
-Ollie da Don
Monday, June 21, 2010
This Baby Gets It
Big ups to my mellow my man Brock Hardon from Us Versus Them for finding this gem. I couldn't stop myself from posting it. I try really hard to come with original, fresh material, but when someone gets the scoop on you, you just gotta swallow your pride, give em the credit, and acknowledge the fact that you had no option but to bite. On a quick, semi-related note, I feel like that entire last sentence deserved a "no homo" after each comma... HAAAA.
Good work homie, maybe now I can get back into the blogroll? ha.
-Olls
Good work homie, maybe now I can get back into the blogroll? ha.
-Olls
Friday, June 18, 2010
Stop the Presses: The Lakers Won
And I really couldn't give a fuck less. Let the bandwagon riding commence. It's the same shit show every year, I know there are plenty of true, legit laker's fans out there but if I have to see one more FB update about how great "your" Lakers are, I'm gonna shit blood. This front running business has got to stop. This is the exact same thing that happened last year with the Yankees. Now the hooplah and suspense and drama begins, is Phil (Jackson) coming back? Can the Lakers 3peat? Is Kobe as good as Jordan? the answers... Probably, NO, and NO. I'm puttin' my stamp on it right now, June 18, 2010, the day after the Lakers won the NBA championship and saying very clearly that they will not win the title again next year. With, or without Phil Jackson returning as head coach.
Ron Artest is the coolest fuckin guy ever. Straight up thanked his psychiatrist for helping him calm down. You know a muhfucka's wild when his therapist is on the checklist of "who I need to thank". Keep it hood Ron, and get back to focusing on sets you apart from everyone else, your rap career. HAAAAAAA. This guy is legitimately insane and I love it. Matter of fact, let's run that shit:
Get em RoRo.
Is it just me or does Pau Gasol have the worst beard in the game right now?
Turrible.
The Lake show can bring back the entire team they had this year, and it won't matter, they aren't 3peating. It just isn't gonna happen. Lebron is too hungry. It's his turn to man the fuck up and get his jewelry going before he becomes a Karl Malone shadow. Just sayin...
And while were discussing sports, I'd like to just say a couple words to my cubbies:
"GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER". 6 games under .500? C'mon now boys, get it together. I don't want to burn another hat on the altar of sacrifice but if it gets much worse, I will be having a bond fire, believe that.
I'm out.
Fuck the Lakers. And the Celtics too. Rajon Rondo looks like Bow Wow's stunt double, but softer. These fools are all bitch made.
-H-ollie-r than thou.
Ron Artest is the coolest fuckin guy ever. Straight up thanked his psychiatrist for helping him calm down. You know a muhfucka's wild when his therapist is on the checklist of "who I need to thank". Keep it hood Ron, and get back to focusing on sets you apart from everyone else, your rap career. HAAAAAAA. This guy is legitimately insane and I love it. Matter of fact, let's run that shit:
Get em RoRo.
Is it just me or does Pau Gasol have the worst beard in the game right now?
Turrible.
The Lake show can bring back the entire team they had this year, and it won't matter, they aren't 3peating. It just isn't gonna happen. Lebron is too hungry. It's his turn to man the fuck up and get his jewelry going before he becomes a Karl Malone shadow. Just sayin...
And while were discussing sports, I'd like to just say a couple words to my cubbies:
"GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER". 6 games under .500? C'mon now boys, get it together. I don't want to burn another hat on the altar of sacrifice but if it gets much worse, I will be having a bond fire, believe that.
I'm out.
Fuck the Lakers. And the Celtics too. Rajon Rondo looks like Bow Wow's stunt double, but softer. These fools are all bitch made.
-H-ollie-r than thou.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Just For The Record:
Yes, Ollie da Don is still here.
I still hate just about everything. I still think im better than just about everyone. I still have no shame. I still love me a thick chick. I still prefer my beef medium rare. I still got no love for them hoes. I still see everything in terms of black and white. I still have an overwhelming sense of self worth. I still take pictures. I still got restless leg syndrome. Your girl still wants me. and I still got love for the streets. It's the Oll-I-E. (Think still D.R.E.)
The fact of the matter is simple, I haven't been posting new stuff on the blog lately, after the untimely passing of my dear cousin Derrick Alan Shaw, so I didn't have it in me to post anything on top of the Eulogy that I wrote for him. I gave it well over a month as the top priority on this blog, but, for the sake of the peoples, and for my personal well being, it is now time to get back on my bloggin' shit. I know the people miss me.
Orders of business (Tasks to be completed within the next 2 weeks):
Take over the world.
Prove why Makeshift, along with Piff C. Herrera are better than your favorite local emcees.
Bring back the spark that had the internet a buzz when this blog was at it's peak, and continue on with the next installments of the female guide to dating.
Get the hate out of my heart and let go of the hostility towards certain individuals.
Finish some paintings and post them here for sale.
Get back to being that characture of myself that we so fondly know and love as Oliver Wrist, the internet's most lovable Asshole.
I will be back Monday, all new fresh material so be ready to have your faces melted off when you read what's in the works.
August is gonna be a big month for your boy Ollie as I plan to hit Vegas, and AGENDA trade show in a matter of 2 weeks, not to mention my birthday falls in there as well.
I'm half ass back... but it ain't a wrap, so don't count me out just yet.
Thanks to the few that stuck around and shot emails and were encouraging me to get back on my grizzly. Its back on and poppin now.
Big shout to my man T from New Era (read: baseball caps), and the launch of his new line Tripp Apparel. He's making some moves, and shakin up the scene a bit, wishin him tons of luck and I'll be back Monday with a full write-up along with photos and commentary on Tripp Apparel.
If you have something you would like my opinion about, please feel free to drop me a line on my gmail at nickelplatedbama@gmail.com.
In the mean time, keep it movin folks.
-Olls
I still hate just about everything. I still think im better than just about everyone. I still have no shame. I still love me a thick chick. I still prefer my beef medium rare. I still got no love for them hoes. I still see everything in terms of black and white. I still have an overwhelming sense of self worth. I still take pictures. I still got restless leg syndrome. Your girl still wants me. and I still got love for the streets. It's the Oll-I-E. (Think still D.R.E.)
The fact of the matter is simple, I haven't been posting new stuff on the blog lately, after the untimely passing of my dear cousin Derrick Alan Shaw, so I didn't have it in me to post anything on top of the Eulogy that I wrote for him. I gave it well over a month as the top priority on this blog, but, for the sake of the peoples, and for my personal well being, it is now time to get back on my bloggin' shit. I know the people miss me.
Orders of business (Tasks to be completed within the next 2 weeks):
Take over the world.
Prove why Makeshift, along with Piff C. Herrera are better than your favorite local emcees.
Bring back the spark that had the internet a buzz when this blog was at it's peak, and continue on with the next installments of the female guide to dating.
Get the hate out of my heart and let go of the hostility towards certain individuals.
Finish some paintings and post them here for sale.
Get back to being that characture of myself that we so fondly know and love as Oliver Wrist, the internet's most lovable Asshole.
I will be back Monday, all new fresh material so be ready to have your faces melted off when you read what's in the works.
August is gonna be a big month for your boy Ollie as I plan to hit Vegas, and AGENDA trade show in a matter of 2 weeks, not to mention my birthday falls in there as well.
I'm half ass back... but it ain't a wrap, so don't count me out just yet.
Thanks to the few that stuck around and shot emails and were encouraging me to get back on my grizzly. Its back on and poppin now.
Big shout to my man T from New Era (read: baseball caps), and the launch of his new line Tripp Apparel. He's making some moves, and shakin up the scene a bit, wishin him tons of luck and I'll be back Monday with a full write-up along with photos and commentary on Tripp Apparel.
If you have something you would like my opinion about, please feel free to drop me a line on my gmail at nickelplatedbama@gmail.com.
In the mean time, keep it movin folks.
-Olls
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Rest In Paradise: Derrick Alan Shaw 4-13-1973 - 4-18-2010
This is a hard post for me to write, and it's not something I am, or ever will be for that matter, prepared for. Over the weekend, my family suffered a tremendous loss, when Derrick Alan Shaw(my cousin/very close personal friend/brother to me/my personal idol), better known as "D" or "DShaw/DShow" to his friends and family, slipped into a coma after a bloodclot made its way into his brain which ultimately rendered him lifeless, with doctors eventually pronouncing him "dead" on April 18, 2010. I say "dead" in quotes, because I simply don't feel like he has actually really left us. This came as such a shock (obviously) to all who knew him for the simple fact that "D" was such a healthy young man, full of energy and life and always willing to go the extra mile, and do whatever it took to make sure the people, and world around him felt that much better about themselves and the things they were doing at any given moment. This loss is a pure tragedy, and I don't think I will ever be the same again without him.
Now typically, this is the part of the "eulogy" where I would cite off the numerous activites that Derrick liked to partake in, and how so many times he would convince me to stop being a lazy poor sport and join in the festivities, and how he could turn a typical tuesday afternoon into a raging wild saturday night strictly by using his neverending charisma, his raw energy and pure zest for life. That was the thing about Derrick, he was always so willing to make everyone else have a good time, that it sadden's me deeply, all the way to the bone, that I am saying this about him, because the Derrick I knew, wouldn't want us sitting around grieving his death, rather celebrating the time we got to spend with him. It seems cliche to say, and it seems to me that far too many people throw this term around a little too loosely, but Derrick truly was a one of a kind soul, and a first class, stand up MAN from start to finish.
When I think of Derrick, so many classic memories come to mind. From the things he taught me, to the way he absolutely loved his life. The way he inspired people to do things. The pure entrepreneur, the father, the son, the brother, the cousin, the nephew, the uncle, the friend, the lover, and all around provider of good times.
For me, I suppose it's best to start from the beginning tho...
I was about 5, maybe 6 years old when I got my first skateboard. Why did I get a skateboard? Cause Derrick had a skateboard and by that time he had already mastered the art, and all I can remember ever wanting to be as a young man was to be like Derrick. He spent hours with me, teaching me the fundamentals that would ultimately define my entire outlook on life, and lead me to adopt the skateboarder mentality. Derrick was the definition of cool. He was purely good vibes, and kept all of us younger generation of brothers/cousins/friends schooled on what was in style, and would never let us be caught wearing the wrong thing, or doing anything that was unfitting of a shaw related person.
As we got older, snowboarding became the next thing that Derrick would master, and of course, being the rad dude that he was, he took it upon himself (after months of begging of course) to take us all up to learn the ropes. This time tho, he didn't hold our hands and walk us thru it, he put us on the lift, and showed us the way down and said "see ya down there". Awesome. It was that day, that I realized how incredible Derrick was. Not because he left me to fall off a cliff, but because how good he was at everything he did, and how he was so full of passion for everything he did. I remember telling all my friends about how rad Derrick was because he was on the "Sierra Summit" sign, and that I just knew he was going to be pro. And last I saw, they still have Derrick's billboard hanging in the lodge at Sierra Summit.
Derrick gave me my first job at the ripe old age of 15. I got to start his first business from the ground up with him and he really gave me a chance when he didn't have to. That's just the kind of guy he was. He had enough faith in me and Kris to let us run the shop for him one day, and to my recollection we didn't burn the place to the ground so I guess we could consider that day a success. I worked for Derrick for the entire duration of my high school career, and was the envy of everyone I knew, cause I got to work at the best skate shop around, AND I got a discount.
Most recently, Derrick and I had been spending most of our time hanging out together throwing bags, and playing golf. The skating and snowboarding was starting to take effect on our old bodies, so we took to the less strenuous activities. So I guess, in a way, you could very easily make a case to say that Derrick not only influenced just about everything I ever did in my life, but he taught me to do the things that I did in my life as well.
Derrick to me was much more than a cousin. He was like the big brother to us all. He took everyone in and always had enough room for one more when someone else wanted to come along. He was the definition of what it is to be a man, and I am forever grateful that I had the chance to even know the man, let alone spend the amount of time I got to spend, with him. Derrick's memory will be cherished for the rest of my life, as I'm sure he will live on in the hearts of everyone else who ever had the chance to spend the slightest amount of time with him. You truly were a one of a kind dude D, and my heart just isnt ever going to be the same without you here. I love you brother, truly and deeply.
Now typically, this is the part of the "eulogy" where I would cite off the numerous activites that Derrick liked to partake in, and how so many times he would convince me to stop being a lazy poor sport and join in the festivities, and how he could turn a typical tuesday afternoon into a raging wild saturday night strictly by using his neverending charisma, his raw energy and pure zest for life. That was the thing about Derrick, he was always so willing to make everyone else have a good time, that it sadden's me deeply, all the way to the bone, that I am saying this about him, because the Derrick I knew, wouldn't want us sitting around grieving his death, rather celebrating the time we got to spend with him. It seems cliche to say, and it seems to me that far too many people throw this term around a little too loosely, but Derrick truly was a one of a kind soul, and a first class, stand up MAN from start to finish.
When I think of Derrick, so many classic memories come to mind. From the things he taught me, to the way he absolutely loved his life. The way he inspired people to do things. The pure entrepreneur, the father, the son, the brother, the cousin, the nephew, the uncle, the friend, the lover, and all around provider of good times.
For me, I suppose it's best to start from the beginning tho...
I was about 5, maybe 6 years old when I got my first skateboard. Why did I get a skateboard? Cause Derrick had a skateboard and by that time he had already mastered the art, and all I can remember ever wanting to be as a young man was to be like Derrick. He spent hours with me, teaching me the fundamentals that would ultimately define my entire outlook on life, and lead me to adopt the skateboarder mentality. Derrick was the definition of cool. He was purely good vibes, and kept all of us younger generation of brothers/cousins/friends schooled on what was in style, and would never let us be caught wearing the wrong thing, or doing anything that was unfitting of a shaw related person.
As we got older, snowboarding became the next thing that Derrick would master, and of course, being the rad dude that he was, he took it upon himself (after months of begging of course) to take us all up to learn the ropes. This time tho, he didn't hold our hands and walk us thru it, he put us on the lift, and showed us the way down and said "see ya down there". Awesome. It was that day, that I realized how incredible Derrick was. Not because he left me to fall off a cliff, but because how good he was at everything he did, and how he was so full of passion for everything he did. I remember telling all my friends about how rad Derrick was because he was on the "Sierra Summit" sign, and that I just knew he was going to be pro. And last I saw, they still have Derrick's billboard hanging in the lodge at Sierra Summit.
Derrick gave me my first job at the ripe old age of 15. I got to start his first business from the ground up with him and he really gave me a chance when he didn't have to. That's just the kind of guy he was. He had enough faith in me and Kris to let us run the shop for him one day, and to my recollection we didn't burn the place to the ground so I guess we could consider that day a success. I worked for Derrick for the entire duration of my high school career, and was the envy of everyone I knew, cause I got to work at the best skate shop around, AND I got a discount.
Most recently, Derrick and I had been spending most of our time hanging out together throwing bags, and playing golf. The skating and snowboarding was starting to take effect on our old bodies, so we took to the less strenuous activities. So I guess, in a way, you could very easily make a case to say that Derrick not only influenced just about everything I ever did in my life, but he taught me to do the things that I did in my life as well.
Derrick to me was much more than a cousin. He was like the big brother to us all. He took everyone in and always had enough room for one more when someone else wanted to come along. He was the definition of what it is to be a man, and I am forever grateful that I had the chance to even know the man, let alone spend the amount of time I got to spend, with him. Derrick's memory will be cherished for the rest of my life, as I'm sure he will live on in the hearts of everyone else who ever had the chance to spend the slightest amount of time with him. You truly were a one of a kind dude D, and my heart just isnt ever going to be the same without you here. I love you brother, truly and deeply.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Just a Quick Heads Up:
This blog is still the greatest blog on the planet.
Oliver Wrist is still your favorite asshole.
My game is still tighter than yours.
My life is still better than yours.
Your mother still loves me more than you, and so does your girl.
I still have overly opinionated witty banter to spew at you insignificant fucks, I just haven't had the time or patience, OR desire for that matter, to do so.
I will be back with a vengeance starting next Monday, April 19, 2010. Mark that shit on your calendars.
Oh yeah, if you did me wrong in any way in the last, i dunno, sayyyyyyy 6-8 months, watch the fuck out, cause you will be getting blasted by name until such time as I feel that you have repayed your debt to society (or in this case, ME).
Oliver loves you, except for you, you, you, and you. YOU know who you are, you simple minded fucks.
All the love,
-Olls the menace
Oliver Wrist is still your favorite asshole.
My game is still tighter than yours.
My life is still better than yours.
Your mother still loves me more than you, and so does your girl.
I still have overly opinionated witty banter to spew at you insignificant fucks, I just haven't had the time or patience, OR desire for that matter, to do so.
I will be back with a vengeance starting next Monday, April 19, 2010. Mark that shit on your calendars.
Oh yeah, if you did me wrong in any way in the last, i dunno, sayyyyyyy 6-8 months, watch the fuck out, cause you will be getting blasted by name until such time as I feel that you have repayed your debt to society (or in this case, ME).
Oliver loves you, except for you, you, you, and you. YOU know who you are, you simple minded fucks.
All the love,
-Olls the menace
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Benny Lava is a Beast!
This video rules. I've watched it 3 times now, homie that did the subtitles was pretty spot on, haha. This shit is great.
You're welcome.
-Ollie boy
Thursday, April 1, 2010
I'm Back...
But I really don't feel like writing, and I haven't taken any photos for a while so I don't have anything of any importance to say today.
LOST is killin me right now.
-Olls
LOST is killin me right now.
-Olls
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Holy Lord: PtheG - Cheeseburger
Man, Fresno...
Get in the k"no"w already. HAHAHA.
-Olls back with a vengeance.
Get in the k"no"w already. HAHAHA.
-Olls back with a vengeance.
Friday, March 5, 2010
NPB presents: Fuzzy Fridays: A Trip Thru Europe by Fuzzy Badfeet
For those that don’t know:
These are the photos and stories of my recent trip overseas after Ollie and I parted ways in New York. Chances are quite good that I have misrepresented some of this information either from my own ignorance, a drunken stupor, or a combination of both. Either way, enjoy the adventures of Young Fuzz. What a long, strange trip it was…
…After consuming a Xanax bar in Brooklyn, I fetched a car service to JFK International. I don’t know what it is about security checkpoints, but these assholes are incessantly looking through my bags. Even with the anti-anxiety meds flowing through my system, I could feel the rage welling up in the pit of my stomach. “What the fuck? Is that how you treat your stuff?”
These assholes have no respect for your personal belongings, and ultimately unpacked everything in my suitcase. And if you know Young Fuzz, then you know I’m crazy OCD and spent hours making sure my bag was packed perfectly. Boxed my sneakers, arranged my caps, had crisp folds on my button-ups, the whole nine. Nonetheless, I have to yell at dude about messing up my shit, and in the process, end up getting so irate that I leave that very bag at the checkpoint. Mind you, I don’t do drugs, just weed, so these meds had me spinning loops in that airport.
Trying to calm down but realizing my stupid ass left my bag, I kind of went into to panic mode (you know, the “oh shit!” feeling). But, just as I start to head back to the checkpoint, here comes Ol’ Boy I was just yelling at with my bag. I guess I got my point across to this poor guy because he comes up on some “Sorry for the inconvenience back there, but it’s a part of protocol. Here’s the luggage you left behind,” type-shit. Glossy eyed, dazed, but extremely thankful, I give dude a $20 bill and a Nickel Plated sticker and head towards my gate (Side note: it was these stickers that created the problem at security in the first place. Anthrax tests and all kinds of weird stuff. Big Ollie remembers ha-ha)
Now, its about a 6 or 7 hour flight to Belgium, the one stop I had before Amsterdam, but I don’t even remember taking my seat on the plane, much less the flight itself. However, I woke up to a flight attendant shaking my arm exclaiming “You’re in Brussels.” Perfect, thanks Xanax. Even better, my favorite beer Stella Artois is brewed in Belgium so there was a Stella Café in the airport.
Thus, I got annihilated immediately!! I mean, 5 hours of Stella pints on draft? Whew, they call it “Wife Beater Beer” in Ireland for a reason. I smashed like 8 pints and was feeling wide open when it came time to board my plane to Amsterdam. Luckily, I was able to behave myself and start the trek to Holland.
Above the clouds of Amsterdam
After dealing with more checkpoints to board my flight to Amsterdam, I finally arrive at Schirpol Airport, but still have to catch a train to Amsterdam Central to find my hostel. The building that houses the train station is massive and is one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen.
And even though all I need to find is an Exit, I get lost and end up asking some Italian dude directions to the Flying Pig Hostel. I don’t think this Italian dude was feeling me too much because he glanced at his watch, muttered something in Italian, and then pointed to the sign directly above me. Low-and-behold, I was standing directly in front of the exit all along. Brilliant, I know. Even better, some English dude overheard my “conversation” with the Italian and told me my hostel was only a five minute walk up the street. Stoked that I didn’t need to find another train, bus, or plane, I thanked the Englishman for eavesdropping and started trekking down the street towards my bed.
Now, walking down the streets of Amsterdam is pretty strange because you can smell herb everywhere. So, after I find the hostel, I immediately take a walk down an alley to find one of the notorious ‘coffee shops’ and was in luck. Fire tree everywhere, so I picked up some kill and headed back to the hostel to meet up with the other travelers. Flying Pig has this really chill smoking room, so I decided to take some bong hits with the other travelers and drink my face off. Drank like 30 Jupiter’s, a fairly popular beer in Amsterdam, and ended up meeting a bunch of travelers from all parts of the world. Spain, Australia, England, Brazil, Ireland, etc.
These Spanish dudes were funny as hell. Homie lighting that shit is Harry from London, dude was cool as fuck, so I gave him a NPB sticker. Spanish dudes I roomed with are in the background. Side note: This mask was brutal, put many a user right to sleep (peep next photo for evidence).
Exhibit 1: My man got annihilated, especially after he smashed a Xanax that I let him hold. Shit was classic, I don’t think he even make it to his room after hitting the mask.
For the first night, I was having too much fun at the hostel to really want to go anywhere else. So, I just drank my face off w a few of my fellow travelers. However, I learned a very valuable lesson the first night in Europe. When it comes to services being available at all hours of the night, don’t count on it. For most of us, it is very common to find a late night meal after a long night of drinking. This is definitely not the case in Europe, especially Amsterdam. Not knowing this was the case, I stumbled around the city in vain for over two hours searching for something to eat. Not happening—not even a supermarket, vending machine, nothing. Drunk, enraged, and starving, I stumbled back to the hostel and passed out in my room for a couple of hours. Long day one…
After my first drunken night, I decided to do some sight seeing the next day. Amsterdam is really dope because they have canals that run everywhere through the town. Hopefully, some of these flicks will give you an idea.
Really fresh tower in the background, in a residential area of Amsterdam. Canals separate a lot of the streets.
Most of the streets were designed like this; old buildings line the sides with a canal separating sidewalks and roads from one another.
Bicycle riders fucking everywhere. Amsterdam is pretty small so this is definitely the way to get around. Just be careful, bicycle theft is a huge problem out here. Funny story, I “borrowed” a bike the second day. It was just sitting against this alley wall w no chain, so I swooped it up and smashed around town for a couple of hours. I later told an Amsterdam local that I lifted a cycle to tour the city and returned it to the same spot a few hours later and he complimented me on being polite enough to return it. Ha, the fucking Dutch!
Canal tours offer some great info on the city and take you to some dope spots. Too bad I was getting wasted and just walked around or stole a bike.
Street View.
Heineken factory in the distance where that shit was first made. Heineken on draft was tasty.
This building was massive. Believe it or not, I’m a block away and still can’t fit it all in the frame.
Another view of the canal from the bridge. I was fascinated with these things running through the city.
On the second night, some girl from Rio talked me into going on a pub crawl with her. It was pretty dope, free beers until about 9:00 (referred to 2100 over there). But, after the clock struck nine, all they were delivering was Jagermeister. I hate that shit with a passion but figured it was a necessary evil. About 6 Jaeger bombs later I pulled out my dancing shoes and was two-stepping like a mother fucker in these joints. These people couldn’t get enough of some white kid from California that could cut a rug. Met some strange ass people on the pub crawl but had a blast!! I see ya’ll, hold those NPB stickers high! Unfortunately, the battery on my camera decided to die on me right as we started the crawl, so no flicks from that night. My bad..
Now the Brazilian broad was this bad ass bird from Rio. I think she was feeling Young Fuzz but she was fronting like her man wasn’t with her. Umm, not buying that sweetheart. That little South American has been eyeing me all night and I know it’s not because he’s feeling my swag. “Who the fuck is that dude staring at me every time you talk to me if that’s not your man?” She tried to keep that shit up for a while then ended up telling me some story about how they were just friends. Uh-huhhh!! I’m from a planet called Bitch Please and we don’t play that shit. Was going to make you famous and post your picture honey, but that move got you exnayed, ya dig? I’m still coming down for Carnival though, believe that. Got drunk as shit, peeped some hookers on the walk home, then hit the gas mask and called it a night…
Now, I only booked my hostel at the Flying Pig for two nights. Obviously, that was not a good idea because all the hostels in Amsterdam fill up really quickly on the weekends. As such, the Staff woke me up at 10:00 to “check-out” but I wasn’t having it. After I slept until 12:00, I stumbled downstairs to try and book another night. Nope, all booked up. Fuck!!!! So, on day three I had to drag my ass down the street to find a different hostel as hung-over as I could possible be. Got turned away from two hostels but finally found one with a vacancy called Hotel Tamara. This place was tiny, I mean really fucking small. Even worse though, they didn’t have any elevators and I was staying on the 5th floor. That walk up was brutal sober but got worse when I was drunk or had luggage with me.
30 Euros for this little ass room, not even exaggerating. No TV, shared bathroom, and the worst mattress I have ever attempted to sleep on in my entire life. I’m not very big but shit… I was still too tall and my feet were hanging off the end.
Pictures don’t do these stairs justice, would get to my room wheezing like an 80 year old Marlboro Red smoker. Was even more difficult when I’d come back all fucked up and had to stumble up those flights of stairs.
Staying on the “When in Rome” motto, decided to tour the red light district on day three and peep the hookers. Shit was wild because on one side of the alley would be sexy ass Asians, blondes, black women, etc. But, on the other side you’d see 60 year old prostitutes with saggy old titties and no teeth. Straight ancient hookers, could be my grandma. What kind of shit is that? Shit was bugging me out but you’re not allowed to take flicks of the whores so I caught some other strange shit instead.
No joke, animal and bizarre films were fucking everywhere. Nothing is taboo is Amsterdam.
This dude wasn’t just smoking outside this place, he was a patron. “You dirty old man!” Ya’ll see the size of that glittery strap-on home girl is rocking?
How about now? Whew, that bitch is packing son.
To my man Zone, I think I met Bridgette from Ho Kung Fu. She worked here and kept asking me if I wanted to pay her to “rub one out” for me. No thanks honey, I’m a professional at that, you’re amateur at best. Should’ve gotten a massage though I bet she had that shit locked up.
Grew tired of hearing if I wanted to pay for a hooker so I decided to spend my money on some tree instead. Ended up chilling at this coffee shop for like 6 hours. That lemon haze had me stuck, ya dig? It was crazy though because I was the only person that ever smoked downstairs. Amsterdam recently passed an inside smoking ban which really complicates the normal method of smoking: spliffs (ie: tobacco and herb rolled together). As a result, they opened these “upstairs” rooms where patrons could smoke tobacco and side-step the new law. As a true American, though, I keep that shit separate and I was able to chill downstairs, smoke herb, and people watch. This coffee shop had the kill and I had to drink 3 Café Latte’s just to muster up enough energy to walk out this bitch. Shout to Paul for suggesting the haze, phenomenal strain.
Fucked up thing about this day was that it was Super Bowl Sunday. But, it’s a 9 hour time difference from the States to the Netherlands. And as I said before, everything closes early in Europe especially Amsterdam. Americans stay on their grind, and sacrifice sleep for the opportunity to turn profit. Not the Dutch. The Super Bowl didn’t even start until 12:30 that night. Out-fucking-rageous!!!! Even the bars close pretty early. It wasn’t until my last day in Amsterdam that some local pointed out a few pubs that did stay open all night, but they were straight underground joints that weren’t on any maps I had. Thus, I had to familiarize myself with some European sports, a la rugby and futbol. Matter of fact, watched the France-Scotland rugby match at some Irish pub and enjoyed the hell out of it. These dudes were fucking beasts. Respect due to these boys, they hold nothing back and sacrifice their bodies like nothing I’ve ever seen. Gotta catch a match in the near future, maybe when I touch down in the UK this summer (no pun intended; get it touchdown?).
After watching the match, went on a graffiti hunt and found some pretty dope stuff. Europe is crazy because they commission these graffiti artists to bomb the walls of the city. Unlike the states where throw-ups and tags dominate most of the walls, these people do tons of wheat pastes and true pieces. Caught a couple of them and even through up some NPB stickers to get Europe ready for the Nickel Plated takeover.
Yup, they had “Drug Free Zones” in Amsterdam too. Matter of fact, you can only smoke herb and drink beers inside of the pubs or coffee shops. Pretty weird for a city where “anything goes.”
Side busted a few pieces, fuck it though.
This shit was bugging me out because they were all over Amsterdam. Asked some local what it was about and he said that the artist liked using photographs and adding weird shit to it. Eyelashes were on some Clockwork Orange shit, mad feminine.
These sticker collages were all over the place so I decided I needed to contribute. Nickel Plated Everything…
This building was fresh, the whole Outside was a giant piece done by some local artist. I’m definitely not a professional photographer so this flick does not do it justice. Hope you can get a sense though. It was a 5-story building and dude bombed the whole front side of it. It was dope to say the least.
Was feeling the skull, especially with the white and red contrast to the NPB stickers. Most of these pieces were in the alleys of Amsterdam so you couldn’t back up far enough to get decent photos. Tried my best.
After the graffiti hunt, I found a nice little pub across the street from my hostel. It was really chill, decently priced beers, good atmosphere, American sports (basketball) was on, and I could smoke herb inside. So, I ultimately spent the rest of the night at the bar. Met some cool ass dudes from Turkey and proceeded to get wasted with them until about 1:00 or so, then slipped up the stairs and tried to sleep. Nope. I don’t know what it was about Europe but I didn’t sleep at all. Even having access to as much herb as I wanted in Amsterdam, shit was just not happening. Fuck it, sleep when I die, I guess..
The first 4 days of Amsterdam were pretty much a blur because I was just getting annihilated at all times. Routine typically consisted of coffee, pastry, herb, beer, a lot of walking, then a pub for the rest of the night. So, I decided to take it easy on my last day and go check out the Anne Frank house. For the uninformed, The Frank’s were a Jewish family from Germany that fled to Amsterdam in hopes of escaping persecution from the Nazi regime. Despite the efforts of the Frank family, the Germans eventually invaded the Netherlands and the same series of atrocities continued with Jews in the Netherlands. As such, the Frank family (in addition to the Van Pels family) were forced to go into secret hiding to escape this violent persecution. For the next two years these families successfully avoided capture from the Nazi regime and the youngest Frank daughter (Anne) kept a journal the entire time.
It’s really hard to describe the eerie feeling you get as you climb the steep and narrow stairs of the Frank hideout. The only choice these people had was to hide or else they would be arrested and slaughtered by the German police. To my surprise, however, the secret annex was much bigger than I had anticipated. You aren’t allowed to take photos of the annex but I tried to catch a view of the front side.
Hard to get a good photo because of the museum store built directly next to the museum entrance, obviously the place has changed. But, still very strange to think that they were able to hide “in plain sight” for that length of time.
The really chilling aspect of the Frank tour is definitely the infamous Anne Frank Diary. I mean, this girl was about 13 years old and had such a grim outlook on her surroundings. Obviously, hiding to avoid systematic slaughter hardly seems like a choice, but it was insane to view her feelings on the matter firsthand. For instance, one quote in particular stuck out in my mind. I was going to paraphrase, but it was such a powerful emotion that I was obligated to find the exact quote.
“I saw two Jews through the curtains today, it was a horrible feeling. Just as if I had betrayed them and was now watching them in their misery.”
How fucked up is that? This thirteen year old girl is helpless in the situation and something as simple as seeing two of her own people was the equivalent of betraying them. Wow!! Very articulate way to convey some of our most basic emotions, pity and shame. It shocks me that someone so young could identify the ambiguity of her simple observation. On one hand, feeling simple pity for people in a situation similar to her own tragedy is normal. On the other hand, feeling helpless in knowing that there is nothing she can do but feel pity for these people is frightening. This observation really hit me as I started the descent back down the annex stairs and stayed with me the rest of the day.
After two years of living in utter secrecy in the secret annex in Amsterdam, an anonymous caller phoned the police to inform the Germans that “Jews were hiding at 263 Prinsengracht.” In less than 24 hours, the entire Frank and Van Pels families were sent to concentration camps to meet their ultimate demise. Sadly, only Otto Frank, Anne’s father, survived the torturous conditions of these brutal prisons. The rest, as they say, is history. Yet, Anne Frank’s words are still used today as a symbol of human rights worldwide, echoing the same sentiment today as 70 years ago.
Now, to really bring this story full circle, I’m going to conclude this edition of Fuzzy Fridays with a crazy twist in this plot. After visiting the Anne Frank house, and experiencing the desperation of this family to escape persecution, I immediately had to catch a train to Hamburg, Germany to hit the next spot on my trip. Thus, after smoking one final joint and packing all my things I slid off to the train station.
Trains in Amsterdam weren’t as nice as some other trains I was riding, but they certainly were fast.
The train ride to Hamburg wasn’t very long, maybe 4 or 5 hours at most. But, the eerie thing about the trip is that less than 3 hours after visiting the Frank hiding place, I was riding past the same areas where these families were slaughtered in Nazi concentration camps. How is that for a history lesson? The irony of visiting these places almost simultaneously still gives me the chills. The funny thing is, I had no intention of getting that type of history lesson but that’s what happens when you travel on a whim. Priceless. Let’s hope that we learn more about our history to possibly avoid some of its downfalls . Or else, were doomed to make the same mistakes over and really personify the true ‘ignorance’ of man. I’d prefer not…
Well kids, that concludes volume one of Fuzzy Fridays. Hope you enjoyed reading about my travels as much as I enjoyed trying to remember them. Amsterdam is quite a place to visit and I would recommend it to anyone. I look forward to rehashing the events of my German excursion next Friday so stay tuned for that. Shout to Big Ollie for giving me a platform to share my story, he’s an incredible dude. Love…
P.S. Feel free to contribute to the discussion through the comments section. This small write-up barely scratches the surface on this amazing experience, and I would be honored to answer any questions, comments, or feedback you may have.
Ciao,
Fuzzy Badfeet
These are the photos and stories of my recent trip overseas after Ollie and I parted ways in New York. Chances are quite good that I have misrepresented some of this information either from my own ignorance, a drunken stupor, or a combination of both. Either way, enjoy the adventures of Young Fuzz. What a long, strange trip it was…
…After consuming a Xanax bar in Brooklyn, I fetched a car service to JFK International. I don’t know what it is about security checkpoints, but these assholes are incessantly looking through my bags. Even with the anti-anxiety meds flowing through my system, I could feel the rage welling up in the pit of my stomach. “What the fuck? Is that how you treat your stuff?”
These assholes have no respect for your personal belongings, and ultimately unpacked everything in my suitcase. And if you know Young Fuzz, then you know I’m crazy OCD and spent hours making sure my bag was packed perfectly. Boxed my sneakers, arranged my caps, had crisp folds on my button-ups, the whole nine. Nonetheless, I have to yell at dude about messing up my shit, and in the process, end up getting so irate that I leave that very bag at the checkpoint. Mind you, I don’t do drugs, just weed, so these meds had me spinning loops in that airport.
Trying to calm down but realizing my stupid ass left my bag, I kind of went into to panic mode (you know, the “oh shit!” feeling). But, just as I start to head back to the checkpoint, here comes Ol’ Boy I was just yelling at with my bag. I guess I got my point across to this poor guy because he comes up on some “Sorry for the inconvenience back there, but it’s a part of protocol. Here’s the luggage you left behind,” type-shit. Glossy eyed, dazed, but extremely thankful, I give dude a $20 bill and a Nickel Plated sticker and head towards my gate (Side note: it was these stickers that created the problem at security in the first place. Anthrax tests and all kinds of weird stuff. Big Ollie remembers ha-ha)
Now, its about a 6 or 7 hour flight to Belgium, the one stop I had before Amsterdam, but I don’t even remember taking my seat on the plane, much less the flight itself. However, I woke up to a flight attendant shaking my arm exclaiming “You’re in Brussels.” Perfect, thanks Xanax. Even better, my favorite beer Stella Artois is brewed in Belgium so there was a Stella Café in the airport.
Thus, I got annihilated immediately!! I mean, 5 hours of Stella pints on draft? Whew, they call it “Wife Beater Beer” in Ireland for a reason. I smashed like 8 pints and was feeling wide open when it came time to board my plane to Amsterdam. Luckily, I was able to behave myself and start the trek to Holland.
Above the clouds of Amsterdam
After dealing with more checkpoints to board my flight to Amsterdam, I finally arrive at Schirpol Airport, but still have to catch a train to Amsterdam Central to find my hostel. The building that houses the train station is massive and is one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen.
And even though all I need to find is an Exit, I get lost and end up asking some Italian dude directions to the Flying Pig Hostel. I don’t think this Italian dude was feeling me too much because he glanced at his watch, muttered something in Italian, and then pointed to the sign directly above me. Low-and-behold, I was standing directly in front of the exit all along. Brilliant, I know. Even better, some English dude overheard my “conversation” with the Italian and told me my hostel was only a five minute walk up the street. Stoked that I didn’t need to find another train, bus, or plane, I thanked the Englishman for eavesdropping and started trekking down the street towards my bed.
Now, walking down the streets of Amsterdam is pretty strange because you can smell herb everywhere. So, after I find the hostel, I immediately take a walk down an alley to find one of the notorious ‘coffee shops’ and was in luck. Fire tree everywhere, so I picked up some kill and headed back to the hostel to meet up with the other travelers. Flying Pig has this really chill smoking room, so I decided to take some bong hits with the other travelers and drink my face off. Drank like 30 Jupiter’s, a fairly popular beer in Amsterdam, and ended up meeting a bunch of travelers from all parts of the world. Spain, Australia, England, Brazil, Ireland, etc.
These Spanish dudes were funny as hell. Homie lighting that shit is Harry from London, dude was cool as fuck, so I gave him a NPB sticker. Spanish dudes I roomed with are in the background. Side note: This mask was brutal, put many a user right to sleep (peep next photo for evidence).
Exhibit 1: My man got annihilated, especially after he smashed a Xanax that I let him hold. Shit was classic, I don’t think he even make it to his room after hitting the mask.
For the first night, I was having too much fun at the hostel to really want to go anywhere else. So, I just drank my face off w a few of my fellow travelers. However, I learned a very valuable lesson the first night in Europe. When it comes to services being available at all hours of the night, don’t count on it. For most of us, it is very common to find a late night meal after a long night of drinking. This is definitely not the case in Europe, especially Amsterdam. Not knowing this was the case, I stumbled around the city in vain for over two hours searching for something to eat. Not happening—not even a supermarket, vending machine, nothing. Drunk, enraged, and starving, I stumbled back to the hostel and passed out in my room for a couple of hours. Long day one…
After my first drunken night, I decided to do some sight seeing the next day. Amsterdam is really dope because they have canals that run everywhere through the town. Hopefully, some of these flicks will give you an idea.
Really fresh tower in the background, in a residential area of Amsterdam. Canals separate a lot of the streets.
Most of the streets were designed like this; old buildings line the sides with a canal separating sidewalks and roads from one another.
Bicycle riders fucking everywhere. Amsterdam is pretty small so this is definitely the way to get around. Just be careful, bicycle theft is a huge problem out here. Funny story, I “borrowed” a bike the second day. It was just sitting against this alley wall w no chain, so I swooped it up and smashed around town for a couple of hours. I later told an Amsterdam local that I lifted a cycle to tour the city and returned it to the same spot a few hours later and he complimented me on being polite enough to return it. Ha, the fucking Dutch!
Canal tours offer some great info on the city and take you to some dope spots. Too bad I was getting wasted and just walked around or stole a bike.
Street View.
Heineken factory in the distance where that shit was first made. Heineken on draft was tasty.
This building was massive. Believe it or not, I’m a block away and still can’t fit it all in the frame.
Another view of the canal from the bridge. I was fascinated with these things running through the city.
On the second night, some girl from Rio talked me into going on a pub crawl with her. It was pretty dope, free beers until about 9:00 (referred to 2100 over there). But, after the clock struck nine, all they were delivering was Jagermeister. I hate that shit with a passion but figured it was a necessary evil. About 6 Jaeger bombs later I pulled out my dancing shoes and was two-stepping like a mother fucker in these joints. These people couldn’t get enough of some white kid from California that could cut a rug. Met some strange ass people on the pub crawl but had a blast!! I see ya’ll, hold those NPB stickers high! Unfortunately, the battery on my camera decided to die on me right as we started the crawl, so no flicks from that night. My bad..
Now the Brazilian broad was this bad ass bird from Rio. I think she was feeling Young Fuzz but she was fronting like her man wasn’t with her. Umm, not buying that sweetheart. That little South American has been eyeing me all night and I know it’s not because he’s feeling my swag. “Who the fuck is that dude staring at me every time you talk to me if that’s not your man?” She tried to keep that shit up for a while then ended up telling me some story about how they were just friends. Uh-huhhh!! I’m from a planet called Bitch Please and we don’t play that shit. Was going to make you famous and post your picture honey, but that move got you exnayed, ya dig? I’m still coming down for Carnival though, believe that. Got drunk as shit, peeped some hookers on the walk home, then hit the gas mask and called it a night…
Now, I only booked my hostel at the Flying Pig for two nights. Obviously, that was not a good idea because all the hostels in Amsterdam fill up really quickly on the weekends. As such, the Staff woke me up at 10:00 to “check-out” but I wasn’t having it. After I slept until 12:00, I stumbled downstairs to try and book another night. Nope, all booked up. Fuck!!!! So, on day three I had to drag my ass down the street to find a different hostel as hung-over as I could possible be. Got turned away from two hostels but finally found one with a vacancy called Hotel Tamara. This place was tiny, I mean really fucking small. Even worse though, they didn’t have any elevators and I was staying on the 5th floor. That walk up was brutal sober but got worse when I was drunk or had luggage with me.
30 Euros for this little ass room, not even exaggerating. No TV, shared bathroom, and the worst mattress I have ever attempted to sleep on in my entire life. I’m not very big but shit… I was still too tall and my feet were hanging off the end.
Pictures don’t do these stairs justice, would get to my room wheezing like an 80 year old Marlboro Red smoker. Was even more difficult when I’d come back all fucked up and had to stumble up those flights of stairs.
Staying on the “When in Rome” motto, decided to tour the red light district on day three and peep the hookers. Shit was wild because on one side of the alley would be sexy ass Asians, blondes, black women, etc. But, on the other side you’d see 60 year old prostitutes with saggy old titties and no teeth. Straight ancient hookers, could be my grandma. What kind of shit is that? Shit was bugging me out but you’re not allowed to take flicks of the whores so I caught some other strange shit instead.
No joke, animal and bizarre films were fucking everywhere. Nothing is taboo is Amsterdam.
This dude wasn’t just smoking outside this place, he was a patron. “You dirty old man!” Ya’ll see the size of that glittery strap-on home girl is rocking?
How about now? Whew, that bitch is packing son.
To my man Zone, I think I met Bridgette from Ho Kung Fu. She worked here and kept asking me if I wanted to pay her to “rub one out” for me. No thanks honey, I’m a professional at that, you’re amateur at best. Should’ve gotten a massage though I bet she had that shit locked up.
Grew tired of hearing if I wanted to pay for a hooker so I decided to spend my money on some tree instead. Ended up chilling at this coffee shop for like 6 hours. That lemon haze had me stuck, ya dig? It was crazy though because I was the only person that ever smoked downstairs. Amsterdam recently passed an inside smoking ban which really complicates the normal method of smoking: spliffs (ie: tobacco and herb rolled together). As a result, they opened these “upstairs” rooms where patrons could smoke tobacco and side-step the new law. As a true American, though, I keep that shit separate and I was able to chill downstairs, smoke herb, and people watch. This coffee shop had the kill and I had to drink 3 Café Latte’s just to muster up enough energy to walk out this bitch. Shout to Paul for suggesting the haze, phenomenal strain.
Fucked up thing about this day was that it was Super Bowl Sunday. But, it’s a 9 hour time difference from the States to the Netherlands. And as I said before, everything closes early in Europe especially Amsterdam. Americans stay on their grind, and sacrifice sleep for the opportunity to turn profit. Not the Dutch. The Super Bowl didn’t even start until 12:30 that night. Out-fucking-rageous!!!! Even the bars close pretty early. It wasn’t until my last day in Amsterdam that some local pointed out a few pubs that did stay open all night, but they were straight underground joints that weren’t on any maps I had. Thus, I had to familiarize myself with some European sports, a la rugby and futbol. Matter of fact, watched the France-Scotland rugby match at some Irish pub and enjoyed the hell out of it. These dudes were fucking beasts. Respect due to these boys, they hold nothing back and sacrifice their bodies like nothing I’ve ever seen. Gotta catch a match in the near future, maybe when I touch down in the UK this summer (no pun intended; get it touchdown?).
After watching the match, went on a graffiti hunt and found some pretty dope stuff. Europe is crazy because they commission these graffiti artists to bomb the walls of the city. Unlike the states where throw-ups and tags dominate most of the walls, these people do tons of wheat pastes and true pieces. Caught a couple of them and even through up some NPB stickers to get Europe ready for the Nickel Plated takeover.
Yup, they had “Drug Free Zones” in Amsterdam too. Matter of fact, you can only smoke herb and drink beers inside of the pubs or coffee shops. Pretty weird for a city where “anything goes.”
Side busted a few pieces, fuck it though.
This shit was bugging me out because they were all over Amsterdam. Asked some local what it was about and he said that the artist liked using photographs and adding weird shit to it. Eyelashes were on some Clockwork Orange shit, mad feminine.
These sticker collages were all over the place so I decided I needed to contribute. Nickel Plated Everything…
This building was fresh, the whole Outside was a giant piece done by some local artist. I’m definitely not a professional photographer so this flick does not do it justice. Hope you can get a sense though. It was a 5-story building and dude bombed the whole front side of it. It was dope to say the least.
Was feeling the skull, especially with the white and red contrast to the NPB stickers. Most of these pieces were in the alleys of Amsterdam so you couldn’t back up far enough to get decent photos. Tried my best.
After the graffiti hunt, I found a nice little pub across the street from my hostel. It was really chill, decently priced beers, good atmosphere, American sports (basketball) was on, and I could smoke herb inside. So, I ultimately spent the rest of the night at the bar. Met some cool ass dudes from Turkey and proceeded to get wasted with them until about 1:00 or so, then slipped up the stairs and tried to sleep. Nope. I don’t know what it was about Europe but I didn’t sleep at all. Even having access to as much herb as I wanted in Amsterdam, shit was just not happening. Fuck it, sleep when I die, I guess..
The first 4 days of Amsterdam were pretty much a blur because I was just getting annihilated at all times. Routine typically consisted of coffee, pastry, herb, beer, a lot of walking, then a pub for the rest of the night. So, I decided to take it easy on my last day and go check out the Anne Frank house. For the uninformed, The Frank’s were a Jewish family from Germany that fled to Amsterdam in hopes of escaping persecution from the Nazi regime. Despite the efforts of the Frank family, the Germans eventually invaded the Netherlands and the same series of atrocities continued with Jews in the Netherlands. As such, the Frank family (in addition to the Van Pels family) were forced to go into secret hiding to escape this violent persecution. For the next two years these families successfully avoided capture from the Nazi regime and the youngest Frank daughter (Anne) kept a journal the entire time.
It’s really hard to describe the eerie feeling you get as you climb the steep and narrow stairs of the Frank hideout. The only choice these people had was to hide or else they would be arrested and slaughtered by the German police. To my surprise, however, the secret annex was much bigger than I had anticipated. You aren’t allowed to take photos of the annex but I tried to catch a view of the front side.
Hard to get a good photo because of the museum store built directly next to the museum entrance, obviously the place has changed. But, still very strange to think that they were able to hide “in plain sight” for that length of time.
The really chilling aspect of the Frank tour is definitely the infamous Anne Frank Diary. I mean, this girl was about 13 years old and had such a grim outlook on her surroundings. Obviously, hiding to avoid systematic slaughter hardly seems like a choice, but it was insane to view her feelings on the matter firsthand. For instance, one quote in particular stuck out in my mind. I was going to paraphrase, but it was such a powerful emotion that I was obligated to find the exact quote.
“I saw two Jews through the curtains today, it was a horrible feeling. Just as if I had betrayed them and was now watching them in their misery.”
How fucked up is that? This thirteen year old girl is helpless in the situation and something as simple as seeing two of her own people was the equivalent of betraying them. Wow!! Very articulate way to convey some of our most basic emotions, pity and shame. It shocks me that someone so young could identify the ambiguity of her simple observation. On one hand, feeling simple pity for people in a situation similar to her own tragedy is normal. On the other hand, feeling helpless in knowing that there is nothing she can do but feel pity for these people is frightening. This observation really hit me as I started the descent back down the annex stairs and stayed with me the rest of the day.
After two years of living in utter secrecy in the secret annex in Amsterdam, an anonymous caller phoned the police to inform the Germans that “Jews were hiding at 263 Prinsengracht.” In less than 24 hours, the entire Frank and Van Pels families were sent to concentration camps to meet their ultimate demise. Sadly, only Otto Frank, Anne’s father, survived the torturous conditions of these brutal prisons. The rest, as they say, is history. Yet, Anne Frank’s words are still used today as a symbol of human rights worldwide, echoing the same sentiment today as 70 years ago.
Now, to really bring this story full circle, I’m going to conclude this edition of Fuzzy Fridays with a crazy twist in this plot. After visiting the Anne Frank house, and experiencing the desperation of this family to escape persecution, I immediately had to catch a train to Hamburg, Germany to hit the next spot on my trip. Thus, after smoking one final joint and packing all my things I slid off to the train station.
Trains in Amsterdam weren’t as nice as some other trains I was riding, but they certainly were fast.
The train ride to Hamburg wasn’t very long, maybe 4 or 5 hours at most. But, the eerie thing about the trip is that less than 3 hours after visiting the Frank hiding place, I was riding past the same areas where these families were slaughtered in Nazi concentration camps. How is that for a history lesson? The irony of visiting these places almost simultaneously still gives me the chills. The funny thing is, I had no intention of getting that type of history lesson but that’s what happens when you travel on a whim. Priceless. Let’s hope that we learn more about our history to possibly avoid some of its downfalls . Or else, were doomed to make the same mistakes over and really personify the true ‘ignorance’ of man. I’d prefer not…
Well kids, that concludes volume one of Fuzzy Fridays. Hope you enjoyed reading about my travels as much as I enjoyed trying to remember them. Amsterdam is quite a place to visit and I would recommend it to anyone. I look forward to rehashing the events of my German excursion next Friday so stay tuned for that. Shout to Big Ollie for giving me a platform to share my story, he’s an incredible dude. Love…
P.S. Feel free to contribute to the discussion through the comments section. This small write-up barely scratches the surface on this amazing experience, and I would be honored to answer any questions, comments, or feedback you may have.
Ciao,
Fuzzy Badfeet
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