DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS
Who knew that moving back home to the West Coast would land me smack dab in the middle of the Lone Star State?
Thanks in part to a plethora of televisions in my new digs, replete with digital cable, Tivo, and all that old 'hood shit; I've contracted a rare affliction...HOUSTONITIS. Symptoms include 1) Swooning whenever I see Bun B in a video or hear his sizzirup-slow flow on a song; 2) tourette-like blurtings of "Who? Mike Jones! I said!!" at the most inopportune moments; 3) a greatest-love-of-all-esque feeling when Paul Wall is ice-grilling me from the big-screen TV; and 4) repeated requests from the household (and celebrity guests!) for heaping platefulls of smothered steak, mashed potatoes, collard greens, and - you guessed it - Texas Toast. More "Grape Kool-Aid", anyone?
While there is no cure for Houstonitis, the affliction itself has cured me of my decades-long addication to indie, underground, "conscious", and/or backpack rap. Give me the drawl, ya'll. Slim Thug. YES. Webbie? Why the fuck not? UGK! Always that, put it on repeat, Riding Dirty works for me. Free Pimp C. U goddamn right. I have two more words for ya'll. BOTANY. BOYS.
As long as no one brings up South Park Mexican, we're good to go.
Re: The Dukes of Hazzard. No I ain't see the movie, they don't have bootlegs in L.A. folks. However, if they'd re-made the film for Urban starring Lil' Kim as Daisy Duke, E-40 as Boss Hawg, and T.I. and Saafir as them Duke boys...I'd be in the front row with popcorn, candy and a tall glass of syrup.
DJ SCREW POR VIDA
Mira, Ja Una (La Payasita)