Action Bronson: Stamp of Approval

I know I've been gone a while, but don't let that lead you to think that I've been sleepin' on what's really hood... Speakin' of hood, I need to direct your attention to my dude Action Bronson who is really doin things...



Anyone who knows me, knows 2 things as the absolute gospel of pope truth about me... #1. I am a self loathing asshole w/ a silver tongue and a knack for general "notgivafuckness" and #2. I very rarely will even listen to, let alone give a stamp of approval to, ANYONE in the hip hop game that wasn't doin' the damn thing prior to, let's say........... 2004, give or take a year... Save for a few very select individuals, my personal opinion is that hip hop has done nothing but go downhill since right around 2004... New jack rappers, auto-tuned bullshit, and an overall lack of talent have been ABUNDANT since I gave up on hip hop music. Thus the reason "Throwback Thursday's" came about. Hip hop music has been vital to my upbringing. It groomed me into the man I am today. So I hold the torch, with the sincerest conviction for those that really knew what it took to craft quality music back when quality music was being put out, and more importantly, back when it mattered... Nowadays, in order to be successful in the hip hop world all you need to do is write a hook teaching me how to do some bootsy ass dance, or flood the airwaves with "songs" about lovin' a woman (cough..DRAKE..cough). Long gone are the days of grimey high hats, hard snares, and diggin' for old jazz records to find samples to produce a beat... The internet has made making beats and recording tracks easier than scoopin' your mom dukes for a one night stand after 2 appletini's at happy hour, which has led to a shameless oversaturation of garbage rap music gettin passed onto the people as quality hip hop music. WRONG. The shit is soft. Hip hop is too nice these days. FUCK that. I want cocaine raps, I want diss tracks, I want "I want to kill you" music.

BUT, I did say above "save for a few very select individuals"... Enter my man Action Bronson. He is the perfect mix of ghostface killah (Wu-Tang) with a sprinkle of Ill Bill of Non-Phixion fame. My man AB is bringin' back that good ol' fashioned agressive delivery/gritty beats/grimey persona that blend so well together you can't help but nod your head and want to punch people in the face. Long live hip hop music...

And one more for the road...



-Ollie da Don

"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.

Clipse - Popular Demand

Mother of christ this shit knocks...

Sorry, had to go back and listen again. and again. and again.

Do yourself a favor and cop this album "Til the Casket Drops" on Dec. 8th, but before you do that, go over to The Anatomy Magazine blog and sign up for the free digital magazine set to release in January. BUT, if you sign up now, you can get the first issue in December with Malice and Pusha T (collectively known as The Clipse) on the cover.

Let me just take a quick second to reiterate this... My mellow, my man, CBrett is about to be at the helm of one of the better urban fashion/music/culture magazines that the internet has ever seen. Cover story of the first issue is The Clipse? You kiddin me right now? BIG UPS and 1 brazillion props to Cliff and his crew for putting together what I am sure will be one of the best mags around. I mean, no shots or nothin, but Cliff, you're slippin not havin young Ollie's column in that piece.. HAHA. All in due time..

Oh and did I mention it is free to sign up?

The Anatomy Magazine.

Don't say I never gave you nothin.

Peace.

Oh yeah, shout out to Mr. Makeshift who is set to be featured in the first issue as well...

CLIPSE!!

-Ollie da Don

I'm Going to Harvard

Traditionally, Harvard has been known as the upper tier temple of higher learning. Whether it be law, medical, etc. Harvard has had the game in a yoke for a minute. Sorry Brock and Lake at Us versus Them, I know ya'll are big Duke fans and everything... but yo, back to the point..

Other than academics, Harvard is straight pussy. I mean in every single other facet of life. A safe haven for middle and upper class white yuppies to go get a degree to hang on their wall and never use, because daddy's money will hold 'em over 'til he eventually kicks the proverbial bucket and that nice little inheritance kicks in.

You know I'm only half serious of course, generalizing an entire establishment such as Harvard as a collection of self entitled rich suburban kids is just ridiculous, because of this announcement that just came off the line...

Harvard is now offering a new course based exclusively on HBO’s hit T.V. show “The Wire”.

Yeah I said it. Click that link to get schooled up.

So obviously I have put in my bid to be accepted to Harvard based solely on my knowledge of "The Wire".

Cat's don't know... Let me learn ya. The Wire is without a doubt, the most gangster television show in the history of TV. Yes, better than "The Sopranos", even better than "Sons of Anarchy" (and that hurts me to say cause that show is truly BFA and better than anything else on right now).

Let's catch up a bit...



Now, moving on, Harvard (yes that Harvard) voted via a panel of teachers, students, elites, etc. and gave the green light to use this show as a means to educate students on the rough state of urban society. As Profesor William J. Wilson said:

"I do not hesitate to say that it has done more to enhance our understanding of the challenges of urban life and the problems of urban inequality, more than any other media event or scholarly publication," Wilson told the audience before poking fun at himself, "including studies by social scientitsts."

Now I have a few questions:

1. Will there be character breakdowns and debates as to who was the hardest of hard out there in those Baltimore streets?

Let's examine the characters:

First up we got Avon Barksdale...



I mean, what is there to say about this cat? Avon ruled with an iron fist, stackin loot taller than Manut Bull and still had the stones to body fools himself.

Next, we got Omar...



Yo, for real, this cat was so hard that the dope-spot stash houses would just throw the g-packs from 2 floors up out of fear that he would kill everyone. Oh, and did I mention he had this much street cred while being a blatant homosexual? You gotta respect that..

Now we come to Marlo Stanfield...



No words, Im'ma let this video do the talkin...



"My NAME WAS IN THE STREETS!!?"

Man, Marlo was easily the most ice cold, heartless, kill his momma for $2 dollars type a cat, quietly, the little young'n Michael was the hardest out.



First body before he could drive? CHECK. Took out Snoop? CHECK. Stepped to Marlo? CHIZECK.

matter of fact, lets run some clips...



Now I know that whole bit about "never was one of us" might throw some folks but just know, Michael intended it to be that way. Playin it separate, askin questions, makin himself look soft, all that did was make his game that much tighter.

I give up. I can't call it. I have even forgotten the rest of my questions relating to this shit cause i'm stuck on youtube watchin clip after clip of The Wire.

Get you some.

-Ollie Stanfield

Hold The Fuckin' Phone: Shyne is Out?!?!

This day has seriously been on my mind for years now. The release of Jamal Barrow a.k.a. Shyne Po of the once infamous, now debunkt Bad Boy family. Oh you didn't hear? Combat Jack put the people up on what was really poppin' behind the scenes at Bad Boy over on his blog, Daily-Math.com. The Reader's Digest version goes like this... Diddy tried to strongarm Interscope records, frontin' like he was still top billin' for the heavy loot cakes, Interscope responded with, what now looks to me, like a straight hostile takeover and sat Diddy's punk ass down with the quickness. Bad Boy headquarters is now officially closed down, and Bad Boy records as a label, as a movement, as the epicenter for some of the most classic hip hop tracks ever created, will now be manned from a corner office at Interscope records, withOUT Diddy pullin the strings.

Wait... Seriously? Bad Boy with no Diddy? I'm gonna go on record now and say that Bad Boy will never officially release another GOLD album for the rest of it's existence. The wheels have fallen off. The dynasty is finished. Like so many before it (read: Roc-A-Fella, Death Row, Loud, etc.), Bad Boy has gone the way of the Buffalo. Has the last great piece of Hip Hop history fallen at our feet? The signs of Armageddon are real people. Let's read thru Nostradomus' works and cross reference the words Diddy/Bad Boy/End of Times, I'm sure Science can figure out a way to Blame Puff for ending the world. I mean, he did end Shyne's life...

Or did he...?

I'm not sure if it is neccessary or not to give the back story as to what happened that cold New York City night that ended with Shyne takin' the hit for the squad (like a true soldier), but I have to assume that all the minions and followers are not quite "up on shit".

The story that I believe most, (again, no one but J.Lo, Puff, Shyne, and a few other select individuals truly know what popped), is that Puff got yoked, decided to flex his bitchassness and pop a few shots at some cats to impress J.Lo, then threw the gun in Shyne's lap and said: "Do you want your record to come out? Take the heat".

Shyne, at this time was still a 21 year old goon straight out of the gutters of NY's mean streets, thuggin is in his blood, and at this time in the world of hip hop, what Puff said, was gospel.

Fast forward 3+ months, Shyne is facing 10 years for attempted murder, amongst other things. The verdict is read. Guilty.



The man who was supposed to bring Bad Boy back to the spot they so desperately sought after the loss of Biggie, is now takin' that trip up North for what, on paper, was reading as 10 full years.

Shyne goes up, and Diddy does as he promised and releases Shyne's first solo album to critical acclaim.

Pause... Some posts require some background music, and this, my dear friends, is one of them.



Press play before you move any further.

Shyne is the definition of Bad Boy. At the time of his arrest, Shyne had quite literally been, quote, unquote, "fuckin with" Puff for no more than a few months, but still sacked up and took the heat for Diddy's bitch ass to prove himself worthy of the throne that Biggie had left vacant some 2 years prior.

I'm gonna say this now and stand by it 'til the day I die, Shyne had the potential to be, excuse me for this, "That Nigga". I mean for real, for real. Shyne had it.

So now Shyne is hemmed up, troopin the bid like a loyal soldier.

The paparazzi caught Puff after the sentencing and asked him how he felt about the verdict...



Me too Puff, me fucking too.

This was all in 2000. In the years to follow, Shyne would remain silent behind the walls, never speakin out about the night in question, never givin up Puff and fingering him (no homo) as the man responsible, and how does Puff repay that debt?



naddagoodlook Puff...



The legacy that once housed the likes of Craig Mack, Black Rob, Notorious B.I.Fuckin G., The Lox, Junior Mafia, Lil Kim, etc. is now home to wack ass bullshit artists and cat-like motherfuckers like Que?

Oh hell nah Puff. Biggie is rollin in his grave every time Making The Band hits the airwaves.

Oh, and let's not forget the fact that Puff actually turned this hoe out:



(Quietly, on the low, yes I would.)

Where was I?

Oh right... Diddy is out here doin the Harlem Shuffle and building an empire all on the back and shoulders of Shyne's word as a man. It's the code of the street, it's the world I live in, "Snitches get Stitches", and Shyne never snitched. Not a word.



Let's just say, Shyne is out, and EVERY record label in the world better be offering up MILLIONS to my man.

I also firmly believe that Puffy needs to catch that realll ass whoopin' immediately. You can't pay back 10 years of someone's life, but you damn well better be comin correct with those "thanks for not snitchin" checks. I mean, I know Puff goes hard and strong arms these featherweight new-jack Making the Band types, but let me see you try that shit with Shyne Po. I'd give anything in the world to be in the building first time Shyne locks eyes with Diddy.

Don't think for one second that Shyne's rap game slacked at all, HELL NAH. If anything, my man is sharper than ever, I mean, bein locked up for 10 years with nothing but hatred in your heart and a brain full of thoughts, a man is bound and destined to produce one of the greatest albums Hip Hop has ever heard. Be checkin for that new Shyne album, whenever it drops.

Big ups to Shyne for being one of the last real soldiers in this bitch-ass infested world of hip hop.

Chuuurch.

-Ollie da Don

The Irony of Dying on Your Birthday:

And yes, that is indeed the title to a song by a poppy-screamo-metal band that I have spent WAY TOO MUCH time listening to over the last 2 weeks.

Oh yeah, AHEM! I'm back. Or something that might sort of resemble being "back".

God, this blog took a serious turn for the worse over the last month or so.

Let me say this, for those that are wondering, Yes, I am indeed still alive. No, I was not struggling with any form of writer's block. What I have been dealing with is more than I would wish on my most hated foe.

So here it goes, the story, the way I see it, and the way I want it told. To any and all who have played a part in this, I apologize for involving you in my mess. There I go again, apologizing. Fuck. I feel like Larry David over here.

Friday, September 11, 2009 (what an interesting day to choose to change my life ha!) I went to visit the tattoo shop. Not to get a tattoo, mind you, not at all. I went there to visit with my cousin, bullshit a little, and most importantly, I wanted to get some of that fancy carbon paper they use to transfer the drawing to the skin. I had this genius plan that it would work on canvas, and I had this pretty rad picture I drew sitting on my desk at home, just waiting to be painted.

So there I sit, chowin down pain killers like m&m's to comfort myself from the sense of loneliness and destitude that I have been wallowing in for the last several weeks when all of a sudden, I get the genius idea that I'm gonna get a new tattoo. At this point, I have no fucking clue what this tattoo will be, where it will go, or why I will get it, but nonetheless, I'm getting it.

I settle on the phrase "The Truth Shall Set You Free" over my "heart" or what, at that point, was left of it. So after the hustle of "how much" and alladat, I'm sittin in the chair, not feeling a thing, as I have been, for the last year or so, and 45 minutes later, I get up, go home, and take a look at my genius new insignia. For the record, I forgot the carbon paper all together, and couldn't for one second tell you what conversations I had, and with whom, or what, if anything, those conversations were about.

I go to sleep, alone, as I have been for the last month or so with the aid of my little yellow femme fatales. And no, I'm not talkin about petite asian masseuses, I'm talkin about these stupid little pills I've been force feeding myself to cover up the scars of emotional trauma under the guise of a fairly severe back injury I suffered back in high school.

Sleep is an excellent thing. So excellent, in fact, that I decided I was going to sleep the entire weekend away. Every time I woke up, I just took another handful and passed right the fuck back out. This went on until Sunday Morning...

The bottle is empty.

What will I do now?

That, my dear friends and followers, is when it hit me. I go to the bathroom, take a shower, and read the new ink permanently tattooed into my skin. The shit hit me like a stone Mason's hammer whilst building the Temple of Solomon (sorry, I watched a SHIT LOAD of History Channel in the numerous days to come).

"The Truth Shall Set You Free".

What a fuckin' concept.

The assessment of my life came at the urging from my mother. "You've been locked up sleeping for 40 hours straight, the fuck's your problem?"

And there it is folks.

**Time to get Honest**

I have a severe addiction to pain killers. One that ultimately had planned on sending me to an early grave, that, by this point in my life (Sunday night, not Today), didn't seem so bad.

What the Fuck? Awwwwww Hell Nah. I ain't goin out like that.

Get Real here.

So, Sunday Night I decided to clean up the act and cut the bullshit.

Despite the urging's of family members and other close confidants I said FUCK REHAB.

I am a grown ass man with the strength and will power to get thru ANYTHING.

The next Nine days of my life would prove to be the most difficult days I have ever been thru, or, for that matter, may EVER go thru.

I will not be specific in dosage amounts for sake of comparison to you or your friend's pill habits, suffice it to say, there was a LOT.

I'll do you a favor now and spare you the details of what was set to transpire, but this person I have been and was slowly turning into permanently was going to get the fuck gone, and your boy would be standing on his soapbox triumphant once again.

I can do this...

Whew.

Here I stand today, after 9 days of an agonizing detox coupled with the thrill of taking a loss in the realm of love, proving to myself, first and foremost, that I am capable of functioning without the use of those little crutches.

I guess that just about sums it up.

In retrospect, maybe this post should have been called Sunday Morning? Eh?

Bump that. Young Ollie in the building, and bout to shit all over the internets as soon as I get my strength back.

Thank you.

P.S. There is no chance I would have gotten thru this without the help of a few select individuals. No name droppin' tho, just know, without you, shit wouldn't have happened. LOVE.

I'm almost Back...

-Kevin M. Smith.

Ninjas Killed My Family:

Yes, this photo is like 8 years old, I realize that. Yes, it was funny back then, but NO, that is not the reason I am posting it.

I was peeping The Arab Parrot this morning (as I typically do on Mondays) when I saw this:



I know what you're thinking: "That's the same guy"!

And I do believe you are correct.

The Parrot is in NYC and happened to catch a follow up of the "ninjas killed my family" guy and his new street hustle without even knowing it.

Man, this guy is a marketing genius. He's got fucking websites on his cardboard now.

I need to contact this dude and get some BAMA stickers on his signs. Maybe then I could get the reader count up from 6-8 to 11 or 12. HAHA.

I am straight blown away that my man is still hustling this hard in the streets on NYC.

-Ollie

Holy Shit:

Yo word niggas - Watch more Funny Videos


I seriously cannot describe the way I am feeling after watching this. I mean, what the fuck dude? What is with my man's beak? His eyes are all pupil. That hair is not doing him any favors niether son. This shit is straight wild.

To address the one post a day issue, I know. I have alot of stuff to write about, but I am working 8 hours a day and my time is a little limited. What can I say man? This bloggin' shit is a struggle. I need a partner.

Want to write a weekly column on the BAMA? Hit me with a comment or e-mail (nickelplatedbama@gmail.com) and lets get it slappin'.

-Ollie

Gangster's Paradise

I saw this and just had to post it:



I don't really remember what website I jacked the photo from and honestly don't care.

I am blown away.

That's an ice cold casket right there dog.

-Ollie

Cat's Need To Quit Frontin'...

Today's banger: Japcity - Identity Theft



"Gangsters don't have record contracts"...

nuff said.

For the record, the message far exceeds the quality of the music.

-Ollie

Throwback Thursday: Diamond D - The Hiatus

The Hiatus from '97's "Hatred, Passion, & Infidelities". Shit knocks. End of story. Skip to the :28 second mark for the song. The first 30 seconds is a snippet from another Diamond D joint called "The Projects". For the uninitiated, Diamond D was resident in-house producer for the D.I.T.C. (Diggin in the crates) crew, which played host to the likes Showbiz and A.G. (personal fave), Big L, Lord Finesse, Fat Joe and numerous other classic rap acts from the hey-day of New York hip hop.



I prefer Diamond D as a producer, but i gotta give credit when it's due, and D came correct on the verses here. Straight classic material from an industry savvy veteran.

-Ollie in reflection

The Wire Vs. Rappers

I love "The Wire". It is quite possibly my favorite television show of all time. I have referenced many of the characters at opportune times during my ravings and rants over the last few months, but this cat Jesse H. from The Smoking Section compiled one of the best comparitive lists of rappers vs. characters from the wire I have ever seen.

What If Rappers Were Characters From The Wire?

Click that hotlink. The shit is real.

I especially like the Charles Hamilton/Dukie, Jay-Z/Stringer Bell, and the Scarface/Prop Joe comparisons. Those are razor sharp.

Its a great read, WITH PICTURES, so you cave-dwellers will be entertained.

-Ollie

Myspace Propaganda V. 1.0

Thumbin around myspace, as i do everyday, I came across a page for "E-Man's Angels Entertainment". Normally I would just link you to the page, but, this profile is set to private. Me being the pervert that I am, I went through the hassle of friend requesting and alladat just to get the loyal readers some solid material for the afternoon.

Let me just explain, this site is not slangin strippers, they are slangin booty. These bitches are straight up prostitutes, and I couldnt be happier about finding them. Peep one of the 50 flyers from the page:



Let me explain that flyer to the white readers...

"For only $1,500 you get 3 silky headed hoes, 2 bottles of thug passion, some chicken, and some extra funky cuttin in a hotel room".

Great. My interests are peaked.

So I went ahead and clicked on the "view more pics" section tryin to locate some extra thick booty shots, and I stumbled across this banger right here:



That is straight ashy honey. Peep the way they went ahead and hit ol' girl off with the booty oil rub down, but didn't even bother with the legs, back, knee-pits, or elbows. HAHAHA. That shit is straight raw. You know the photographer was just yellin "bend over, we still gotta get shaquana and 'dem in heyah 'fo they photo shoot". Riiiiiight, cause this photo right here was all business.

Just know, if they weren't based in Atlanta I would have called 'em up just to give 'em shit. Why? Cause Ollie's a cold hearted savage with zero morals.

This is another flyer that was posted in a bulletin on my page. It's from the guys at WAR42, which is basically the filming team for the graffiti crew TKO. Now I have met several of the dudes from TKO and let me just say this, these cats are seriously RUTHLESS. Peep the flyer:



Bring: Craigslist Hookers, Coke, Crack and Cab Fare. HAHAHAHA.

The only text in the bulletin read "These guys aren't kidding about the Crack and Cab Fare".

Savagery at its finest from the goons at TKO. P.S. Cupcake Vandal, if, for any reason, you ever read this, holler at a peeeimp.

-Ollie the Cold-Hearted

Instant Classic: Dirt Nasty

Anyone who reads this site knows that my favorite thing in this world outside of the thick white woman is ice cold extra pimperish super ign'ant behavoir. I can't explain why I love outlandish behavoir so much, maybe its a reflection of my wild days as a young buck on the come-up, maybe its because I listened to so much early '90's Bay Area rap music, or maybe its just because wild muhfuckas make me laugh. Whatever the reason, just know, if you go hard on your hoe, clown stupid folks to their face, or just generally act like a dick at all times, you are definitely cool in my book.

Now that we've gotten the new readers up to speed (Ollie has been shamelessly self promoting via myspace and facebook), let's get into today's first post.

Dirt Nasty is straight up cold. Like dry ice, burn your fingers cause it's so damn cold, COLD. I absolutely love this cat. I remember hearin some of his joints a couple years back, but I hadn't thought about him since. Yesterday I was cruisin one of the homie's myspace pages and saw a couple videos from Dirt Nasty posted on his page.

Matter of fact, lets get into those right now...

This first joint is called "droppin names". He basically just calls out anyone with any sort of celebrity and goes really hard on these punk ass tricks that run around Hollywood acting like they're owed somethin. Roll that shit...



HAHA. Is it obvious yet why I like this cat so much? This fool is O.J. Simpson official pimpin slappin hoes and doin it extra MAGNUM. HAHA.

Some of you might be thinking, why do I recognize him? It's really a simple answer... His name is Simon Rex and he is an actor/model. He was in the "Scary Movie" series along with a bunch of other t.v. shows and whatnot. The truth is, Dirt Nasty is his alter ego, and being that I have a ridiculous amount of alter egos, my affection for what this fool is doin just grows.

Here's another joint called 1980...


I love how he makes fun of the super educated, AP english, listened to too much Wu-Tang and tryin to align your rhymes with the planets, doesn't make a bit of sense but the backpackers follow it, typical, run of the mill, everyday white kid rap. He even has a backpack on. This fool is too damn much. Watch out for a cameo from Schwayze(those jerk-offs from the MTV show Buzzin') and Evidence from Dilated Peoples fame.

One more video for good measure cause I'm feelin so agressively ice cold right now...

This one is called "Cracker Ass Fantastic"...



HAHA. Nothin more to say other than "Classic". This cat inspires me to rap, no joke. I think imma hafta drop an album this year. Yeah Right.

-Young Ollie da Don

Myspace profile of the day

I was just thumbin through some random myspace profiles and came across this gem right here...

CLICK HERE

I think i've made it abundantly clear how i feel about 90% of white rappers, hell most rappers in general but this kid, well, he may just take the cake.

If you're lazy and choose not to click the link, here's some motivation for ya...

Taken directly from his "my photos" section on myspace...



Judging from that haircut alone one would have to assume he was from some podunk midwest state, i.e. Iowa, Kansas, etc. But no, he's a left coaster folks. I cant make this shit up. His name is "Mista C" and his grill stays shinin...



HAHA. Damn pimpin, youz cold on these hoes..

-Ollie the provider

Headline of the day

"Man seeks kidney in divorce"

The story from wwmt.com...

--------------------------------------------------------------

LONG ISLAND, New York (NEWSCHANNEL 3) - Divorces can get ugly, especially when you're not ready to let go.

"There is no deeper pain you can ever express than betrayal from someone who you loved and devoted your whole life to. And I saved her life," said Dr. Richard Batista.

Dr. Batista says his wife broke his heart. Now he wants her kidney.

Back in 2001 Batista's wife needed a kidney transplant. He turned out to be a match and ended up saving her life.

But now that there is trouble in paradise, he wants the kidney back.

Of course legally, since the kidney is in his wife's body, it now belongs to her.

Since he can't have it he's asking for over a million dollars in compensation.

-------------------------------------------------------------

OH MY GOD! That is so fuckin' icey. "she broke my heart, so I want my kidney. Peep the video of ol' boy lettin it be known...

WKRG.com

This cat is a certified G. He's already a front runner for iciest of the year.

By the way, if you were wondering who won "iciest of the year 2008" it was this guy...



I never got around to formally giving out the awards, so I will be giving them out as I think of them in related posts.

The Wire: 5 Seasons "Rap"ped up

Anyone who knows me will attest to the fact that I am a HUGE fan of The Wire. I think Marlo is one of the most sinister, fucking gangster characters ever created. EVER. Fuck Scarface... You want to know about drug kingpins? Look no further than Marlo Stanfield...

Anyways, for anyone who has never seen The Wire, Skillz (formerly Mad Skillz, but he aint mad no mo' LOL) went ahead and did a "Rap" up of all the key points from all 5 seasons. Have a look at that right now...



If you aren't familiar with Skillz' body of work, the dude has consistently dropped an end of the year wrap up every year for at least the last 5. Wanna recollect what popped off in 2008?? Have a look back courtesy of Skillz, your favorite rapper's Ghostwriter...



One of my favorites from back when he blessed this old mixtape I had (back before mixtape's were the "in" thing) he said some funny ass line about fools steppin to him that went somethin like " I suggest you grab your dick, walk in a circle and dont fuck around"... I shouldn't have to explain the cleverness of that line.

Anyways, props to Skillz, and UBER GANGSTER PROPS to Ed Burns and David Simon for creating, quite possibly, the greatest television show of all time.

-Ollie the new kingpin