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

Female Guide to Dating: Chapter 4

I'm just gonna go ahead and say it, Yes, I know chapter 3 was soft, but for good reason. I was setting up for the dagger to the heart. After an extended weekend away from writing "the guide", i'm back and more spiteful than ever. I just hope that it translates well from my brain to the keyboard. Fuck an intro, let's get it started.

Chapter 4: Bitches aint shit.

Every man has "that" day. The day where an epiphany occurs and he no longer finds himself dwelling on past/present/future girl troubles and decideds instead to just go ahead and live in the moment. Girls don't have that option. At least not respectable girls with any morals or sense of self worth. Girls tend to believe that every guy they ever fucked, not only loved them, but in fact, still does. Sorry ladies, it just ain't like that. I said it before, but I will reiterate for the slow learners: guys only have the capacity to love 3-5 women in their lifetime, and chances are, if you were involved with him for any period less than 6 months, you weren't one of them. Sure, he still keeps a life line to you open, but you should understand that it's all part of a grand scheme. Let me put it out there in plain english for the uninitiated: Every guy knows that every girl he ever fucked, he can, and probably will (at some point), fuck again. So don't flatter yourself girls. Oh, he hit you up after not talking to you for 6 months? Sorry to burst your bubble, he just doesn't have any other options on the table, and you were the next girl in his cell phone's contact list. Don't think you're special, cause 9 times out of 10, you're not. But what about that 1/10 remainder... Hey, maybe you are the exception to the rule, but more often than not, you aren't, so just know that going in, and save yourself the embarassment later.

Next to jealousy, pride is the weakest of all emotions. It sounds stupid, but it's the absolute truth. And worse than pride, is female pride. No, I'm not talking about the feminist movement, I'm talking about that little corner of a girl's mind that henders her from saying the things she needs to say at any given moment, thus resulting in the one she wanted slipping away, and her, defaulting back to whatever was most comfortable, most recently. It's the way these hoes work. But ladies, with a little time and a few short lessons, you will see the error in your ways, stop being one of "those hoes", and get back on track. Obviously, some can't be saved, and if you think I'm talkin to/about you, I most certainly am. Stick with uncle Ollie, I would never lead you astray...

Look, I get it. I really do. Girls want to have the same options as the fellas. They want to be allowed to sleep around, they want the option to treat the other half like dirt, etc. etc... It ain't gonna happen. Double standards exist. Accept it. I know, I know, "it's unfair". Sorry. I didn't make the rules, I just accept them and write them down to help YOU out. Getting back to the point, I mean, honestly, we let you vote, isn't that enough? I mean, where does this madness end? No, you are not allowed to behave like a man. Be a fuckin lady, and accept your role in the game of life. Men have accepted their punishment, we have to walk around with a pair of balls all day long, that is why we are justified in all of our selfishness and unbecoming behavior. Do you have any idea how annoying balls can be? Of course not, you don't have them, so youre better suited to just take my word for it...

We know you have an opinion, but why don't you just shut the fuck up and keep it to yourself? Never, in the history of life, has a guy EVER said to a group of his homies, "you know guys, I really appreciate your opinions, but what I really need, is my girl's opinion". Never happened. Never will. Do you know why? Simple really, a girl's take on a situation will ALWAYS be construed as "off" for the simple fact that she is a female. And as we all know, the thought process of a female is completely out of sync from that of a male. Girls, do yourselves a favor and accept this as the pope's gospel. If your man is telling you that your opinion is of high concern to him, he's either gaming you, or he's a punk hoe. In either case, you are better off without him. Getting gamed by a dude will lead you to take drastic measures in future dealings with the fellas, and in all seriousness, will prolly scar you for life. On the flip side, if your man is a punk, then you are really getting the shit end of the stick. Bitch ass dudes are worse than the worst of psychotic females. The dude that expresses all of his feelings. The dude that isn't affraid to cry in front of you after knowing you for 10 days... Yeah, that guy, he will be the one slashing your tires 6 months from now. The one who stalks you for the next 10 years. The emotionally open, pose the greatest threat and are the ones to fear most. That goes for guys as well as girls. No guy wants the girl that throws it all on the line after a matter of days. That is risky business to say the least. Keep your concerns and opinions to yourself, and watch how much more he likes you...

Why is it that girl's are so satisfied making a dude miserable? I'm being dead up serious right now. Girls tend to be at their best, when their former/current significant other is at his worst. It's like women were placed on earth just to ruin a man's day. It could be anything from bitchin' to cheating, but the girl gets the most pleasure when the dude gets the most bent out of shape. Ladies, you wonder why dudes tend to be hesitant and reserved when dealing with you? I'm gonna go on record and tell you now... It's because every girl before you, and every girl after you, was/will be hell bent on making him miserable. Therefore, you should TRY, I say try because it is completely impossible for any girl to actually BE the exception to the rule... Ask him how his day was without expecting him to ask about yours. Give him a back rub without asking to have your feet touched. Cook him a meal, AND do the dishes. Be the provider that you were originally sent here to be. I swear man, the modern day woman just generally ain't shit. No more than 2 generations ago, it was perfectly acceptable for dude's to hit their chick anytime he deemed it neccesary. Nowadays, you got these hoes gettin out of pocket and tryin to go upside their dude's head in the club, in front of dozens of people. Where the fuck did that sense of entitlement come from? It damn sure wasn't your grandmother's way. I remember this one broad I knew told me that "guys don't want a girlfriend, they want a dog, they want someone they can treat like shit, who will just be there all the time"... You know what, she was damn right. Let's get it straight ladies, we tolerate you, so let's try to keep the lunacy and bitchin' to a minimum.

Alot of the female readers are prolly completely furious with me right now thinking "where does he get the nerve?"... Well, ladies, when the shoe fits, you gotta wear it. Drink it up, and take it for what it's worth. Whether you accept this as gospel, or just see the humor in what I write, you should know that it comes from a deep resentment for the female race that years of dealing with you wacky ass birds has created. So, hate if you want, but you should know, ultimately, you are to blame.

Thanks for your time. If you disagree, make it public, or forever hold your piece.

-Ollie the Gifted

Fucking White People...

I'm taking the rest of the week off. Enjoy the holidays you gluttonous fucks.

-Ollie

Throwback Thursday: Necro - Underground

I remember knockin this shit really tough my Junior year of high school. The thing that stands out most in my mind is that my punk rock homies were hella into Necro, but nothing else that I was showing them at the time. I guess Necro's absurd brutal death rap transcends genre's for impressionable youth. Me? Not so much. I've been steadfast in my appreciation of hip hop music for the better part of 2 decades. That may date me a bit, but new jacks gotta know where all their favorite underground artists came from, and what impact they had in the years before you discovered them.

What were you knockin in 2000?

-Old ass Ollie

Yankees Win!!!

Big fuckin deal. Let the bandwagon riding "I've always been a fan" bitchassness begin. Seriously, how are the Yankees not gonna win? Wasn't like 75% of their roster on the AL all-star team this year? The fuck outta here dude. It was set in stone. I don't like to buy into baseball conspiracy (it's too great of a game), but the Yankees win the World Series, at home in the NEW 80 bazillion dollar replica of former Yankee stadium, first year it's operational? Seems fishy. Farildo. Yankees had this shit wrapped up in Philly more than once, but dump the game(s) to take it home, stretch the series for them commercial dollars, and lock it in AT HOME.

Think about it. How much loot is lost when a series is a 4 game sweep? That air time during the world series doesn't come cheap, and Fox knows this. Especially when you got 2 East Coast teams dueling for the championship. So when the series goes 6, Fox is cleaning up.

For the record, I watched a total of 35 minutes of playoff/world series baseball this year. As soon as the Cubbies mailed it in right around August, baseball lost it's flavor with the quickness. I mean, seriously, all this means to me is that I have to burn yet another cubbies hat and add another year to the neverending story that is "the lovable losers from Chi-town".

Just cause it makes me laugh, I'm gonna run this joint again...



I will not front on A-Rod's ability to change a game with the glove OR the bat at any given time, but my man really needs to tighten up that belt and quit exhibiting so many feminine qualities.

Highlights in your wig piece? Check.

Eyes closed in extasy while a grown ass Asian DUDE is caressing your bare chest? CHIZECK!

Why does this photo exist? I mean really, in what situation did A-Rod's manager/agent/wife/someone who cares allow this to happen? Why is this acceptable behavior? And more importantly, why is this the only photo from the photoshoot? What happened to the rest of the series? What lines were crossed?

Nevermind. Don't answer that.

-O-Rod

Man Laws:

1. If you can grow a beard, grow a fucking beard. PERIOD.



2. After the age of 12, any physical pain you suffer shall not result in tears. I don't care if you've compound fractured your femur, suck that shit up and rub some dirt on it.

3. After you have experienced your first heartbreak, crying over a woman is a waste of valuable time that could be better spent chopping down trees and enjoying that massive beard you have grown since that bitch left.

4. It is completely acceptable to cry during the movies "Fried Green Tomatoes" and "Old Yeller".



5. When given the option to fuck or have your laundry done... Get the laundry done. If she was willing to fuck you before doing the laundry, she will be willing to fuck you after the laundry is done. That laundry ain't gonna do itself.



6. Never leave the fo' sho' pussy fo some mo' pussy.

7. With the exception of your's truly, YOU are NOT getting any better looking with age.

8. You married your high school sweetheart? Congratulations DICK. You never get to see another stitch of tail for the rest of your life.

9. Drinking on your lunch break is completely acceptable, so long as it is a light beer. Save the leaded for after work.

10. If you can't change a tire, kill yourself RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

11. There is no such thing as "the right one", there's the one you want, the one you got, the one you could never have, and the one you wished you never met. In no particular order, of course.

12. If you have won every fight you've ever been in, you haven't been in enough fights.

13. You don't pay the hooker to fuck you, you pay her to leave.

14. If the restaurant does not have a minimum of 3 DIFFERENT cuts of red meat, walk the fuck out.



15. Mother comes before all other females.

16. Happiness, for the most part, is completely fabricated. The only truly happy people in the world are the people who, in all sincerity, do not give a FUCK.



17. The number of true friends you have in this world can be measured on one hand, anything beyond that, you don't comprehend TRUE friends.

18. If you are still currently backing Obama's health care initiative, your balls are gone.

19. Respect is earned, never given.

20. Silence is golden.



21. If your girl has more guy friends than girl friends, she's cheating on you.

22. All women are sisters and would rather eat your heart than give birth to your spawn.

23. If you've never caught a fish... I don't even have to finish.

More on this later...

-Ollie

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.

You Can't be Serious

The worst fucking guy since Joe Rogan is now getting paid appearance fees to show up and host parties?

This is some sort of cruel prank. Has to be. John Gosselin sucks so much dick...

-Ollie the Hateful

My Youth.

I swear I spent more money renting this video in my younger years than I did on ANYTHING else in the world.

One of my favorite scenes from the flick...



Second favorite scene...



And yes, even as a shorty I wandered why in the hell these dudes wanted to joust rather than just scrap. Eh, whateva.

Throwback Thursday has been revived!!

A Message to the Self Entitled Jerk-Off Pharmacist at Rite-Aid:

I have no fucking idea why you think that your punk ass degree is more valuable than the degree my doctor achieved to practice medicine, but you do, and I hate everything about you. I am so tired of you putting your fat foreign nose in my business every fucking time I try to get a refill. My doctor has no issues with my medications, but somehow your community college certificate of completion gives you the power/right to override my dr.'s reccomendations. Trying to flex the small bit of power you have over me does nothing but make me want to severely hurt you. I swear on everything I find holy (i.e. TBC, thick white women, Cubs' baseball, etc.) if I ever see you in the streets, you are getting destroyed. I am so mad right now I could spit nails, and you best believe I will be carrying this grudge around with me until such time as the problem is solved.

I am fucking livid and it's all your fault.

Now to the back story...

Last Thursday I visited with the dr. and got a bump in my prescriptions. Being as I am a cash patient and had limited funds I asked the pharmacist to give me a chunk of the script now and I would come back in on Tuesday when I got my paycheck.

So I go in last night to get the remainder of my prescription and this fucking piece of shit camel fucker (no racism) decides that because I am "back too soon" he is not going to give me what is rightfully mine.

I ask, very calmly at first, "what right do you have to tell me when I can and cannot pick up a prescription that was written for me" followed by "the dr. wrote the prescription for a specific amount, please explain to me how me picking them up 5 days apart and all at one time are different".

Fucking jack off pharmacist "sir, I don't care if the dr. wrote the prescription for 2,000 tablets, it is my discretion"...

To which I respond "how does that make sense to you? If I had enough cash on me to get the ENTIRE prescription last Thursday, you would have released the full prescription to me correct? Then why in the fuck would it matter that I had to wait until I got my paycheck to pick up the remainder?"

Jack-off (dumb fucking look on his face) "ummm sir, you'll need to lower your voice".

Ollie: "I am going to beat the shit out of you if I ever see you in the streets"

Jack-off "you're going to need to have your prescriptions transfered out of this pharmacy and stop threatening me"

Ollie: "It's not a threat. FUCK YOU."

Cut to Wednesday afternoon when I call to get my scripts transfered to a different pharmacy and this fucking P.O.S. has the audacity to add a note to to the fax that says "do not release until July 6, 2009.

You just punched your own ticket habib.

I am so fucking angry right now.

-Olls

Perz Hilton vs. Will.I.am: Who Gives A Shit?

Aight so, I am sure by now that all 7 of the readers of this blog (I think we lost Kristen to the small pox or something) have heard about this story being spun in the media concerning Perez Hilton getting lumped up by Will.I.Am's tour manager.

A quick breakdown of the scenario plays like this:

This fat, obnoxious tub-o-lard:



called this "leader of the macho movement" a fucking faggot:



The nerve of some people... HAHA.

I mean, for real tho, will.i.am has never been accused of being the most masculine of men, but nonetheless, if Perez Hilton, the self proclaimed "Queen of all media" (barf) calls you a "fucking faggot", you literally have no choice but to lump his skull up with zero regard for the consequences.

So after will.i.am's manager stepped up and delivered the ass whoopin to end all ass whoopin's...



Wait... Seriously? The scratch under your eye is the aftermath of that severe smackdown homeboy allegedly layed on your candy ass Perez?

GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE SON!!!

I have had worse paper cuts than that...

Of course the only logical solution to this fisticuffs you were involved in is to make a series of videos and release them to the internets for all the world to see and begin to take sides...

This is a good little sum-up video of both participants going at it. The original Perez video was 12 minutes of his blubbery ass crying like a little girl with a scraped knee. Yo, gay or not, you are a grown man son. Act your age and gender fareal.



I was gigglin hard at will.i.am in that video tho. Homie is straight laughing at being called a "fag" but quite possible the gayest cat in Hollywood.

I want to get serious for a second here though.

The general consensus seems to be that "the situation should have never became violent".

FUCK THAT. Straight up.

I aint no thug, but you better believe somebody gets that sideways with me they aren't walking away that easy. One little scratch under his eye would only be the start. I'm talkin BEAT_DOWN.

Moral of the story? will.i.am disappointed me by not going harder. I hate Perez Hilton and given the chance I would beat 7 shades of shit out of him.

Go hard!!

-Olls