Tim Dog is still alive????
That’s what one of the women he scammed believes, after she hired a private investigator who couldn’t find any documentation or history of his death or a funeral.
You know a bitch hates you when she hires a P.I. to make sure your bum ass is dead.
Youth is wasted on the young.
Jay Harris was one of the best high school football players in the country last year. So good, he was offered a full scholarship to play for Michigan State University.
Big time Division 1 football at a major college. Talk about pussy up to your ears…this kid could have received a free degree, free room and board, and five free sloppy blowjobs every cot damn day.
So what does this moron decide to do?
He announces to his coach and the school that he wants to concentrate on his RAP CAREER.
Scholarship gone. NFL gone. Coke, money, bitches, and Lambo…gone.
This is the most egregious shit I’ve ever heard of. His parents should be put in jail for not beating him to death.
Here’s what he said to the Philadelphia Inquirer:
“I’ve always had this in the back of my head, but never had the courage to tell my parents that this is what I want to do.”
MORON!
His rap name is Jay Datbull.
Here is his latest music video.
Holy. Fuck.
Lindy West wrote this article addressing the typical misogynistic point of view JTTS espouses.
Sure, it’s a barrel of junior high school laughs when I get on my soapbox and objectify women for the scheming cock sucking cunts that they are…but at the end of the day…what type of man does that make me?
This article compelled me to take a good, hard (pause) look at myself, and reconsider my future approach of fishing for laughs in a low brow chauvinistic, juvenile way at the expense of bitches around the world. I’m better than that. And so are you.
Lindy West, ladies and gentlemen….
Dan Bidondi is covering the Boston Bombing media marathon in Boston for Alex Jones’ conspiracy friendly Info Wars network.
A Cambridge resident armed with a camera called him out on the fact he thinks the F.B.I. blew people up.
Side note: 4 people dead 170 injured in Boston = $30 Million in donations. (Thank you, America.)
14 people dead, 200 injured in Texas = Barely $2 Million in donations. (Thank you, Willy Nelson.)
Anyone find this a bit foul odd?
[The OG video has been removed from YouTube, but you can still see it here].
We’ve all been there–staring across at the rubber bucket, the glass milk bottle, or the hopelessly mis-sized basketball hoop with the certainty that where thousands of other players have failed, we would succeed in turning our hard earned cash into a big fucking stuffed panda at the carnival game booth, thus beating the system and proving that even within this cruel, dispassionate universe, the strength of one man’s will could momentarily supersede the cold, rigid laws of physics and carnival economics.
Or not.
Because in real life, unless you’re a cute girl or little kid playing one of these games, those laws never fail. Newton’s rules of physics always apply, as does the old adage “Never lose your life savings to a carnie at the ‘Tubs of Fun’ booth.”
Aside from ticking off every box in the list of stereotypes about people who lose their life savings at a parking lot carnival, Henry Gribbohm is haunted with the constant reminder of his failure: a big stuffed dreadlocked banana, fated to haunt him forever with his mouth twisted into a mocking smile.
In other words, I’m sure your day could be worse.
It’s true: white people love coffee table books. There’s nothing better than sipping your coffee from your coffee table lazily flipping through your coffee table book, which accomplishes the task of making you look really cool and smart for doing nothing better than staring at mostly big color photos and skimming some text you’ll soon forget. It’s hipster-ness defined.
And what group could be better at bringing a wry smile to the face of the aging hipster at their coffee tables than this news: the surviving Beastie Boys (Ad-Rock and Mike D) have just signed a deal with Random House for a book “celebrating their history and aesthetic,” according to the New York Times.
What we know is this: former ego trip editor Sacha Jenkins will oversee the project (released by subdivision Spiegel & Grau, of Jay-Z “Decoded” fame), and it will be a loose oral history of the group with contributions from other writers, something more of a “multidimensional experience” than a straight memoir (perhaps like the short-lived Grand Royal mag, they say). Oh, and lot’s of pictures.
What we don’t know: much else, as it’s slated for 2015. Start shopping for that perfect coffee table now.
By Davey D.
GoldenUndergroundTV recently released an interview I did with them late last year. I got a bit animated at the end. Only so many interviews in a row I could handle being asked about Chief Keef.
My tirade wasn’t really about Chief Keef. It wasn’t about Gucci Mane or Wocka Flocka or any of the acts spontaneously catapulted into stardom by synchronized mass media coverage despite seemingly universal indifference (at the very best) regarding their talent. Whose arrests, involvement in underaged pregnancies, concert shootouts, and facial tattoos, dominate conversation for weeks at a time, with their actual music a mere afterthought, if thought of at all.
My tirade was about marketing. It was about media powers seeking out the biggest pretend criminal kingpins they can find, (many of whom who shamelessly adopt the names of actual real life criminal kingpins like 50 Cent and Rick Ross), and exalting them as the poster children for a culture. It was about an art form reduced to product placement, the selling of a lifestyle, and ultimately, a huge ad for imprisonment.
Episode 2 went down. It’s official…the show is horrible.
The formula is good, but the judges, hostess, and constant reminder that we’re watching “America’s best d.j’s” makes me resent my television like Trees resents my imperfect blog formatting skillz.
Where to begin?
In scene 1, they feature DJ Homme, the weirdo that made an Ipad interface. He declares, “I’m the minority on the show, being judged by a bunch of turntablists.”
Turntablists, of course, meaning anyone using a turntable.
JTTS homey Dj JayCeeoh will be a cast member of VH-1′s Master Of The Mix reality show on April 1st.
He spent a few weeks in Miami taping the show, and since he’s sworn to a confidentiality agreement I have no idea how he did on the show.
$250K is at stake, and I’m sure he’ll break off the dj who taught him everything he knows if he wins.
The Boston Phoenix is no more.
Play it off like it’s not a big deal, or you saw it coming, or your knew the switch to a glossy cover was a bad idea; all those things may be true, but it doesn’t mean much now. Not to be too dramatic, but waking up this morning, Boston is missing a little piece of its soul.
There’s no point in me trying to eulogize the newspaper, a task better left to others who will do a much better job somewhere else. The reasons for its closure are pretty stark, and what’s done is done. Unfortunately this is the current reality for local journalism, where excellent writers and editors are being asked to do more with less and less and less until…
But, for once, this isn’t meant to be soaked in pessimism.
Instead, we’d like to send off the Phoenix with a tip of the cap and a sincere thank you for 46 years of existence. Also a thank you to the awesome, passionate Phoenix staff, some of whom we’ve been lucky enough to talk, drink and work with in various capacities over the last five years. People like Derek Kouyoumjian, Shaula Clark, Barry Thompson, Ariel Shearer, Melissa Ostrow and others, people I personally still like besides the fact that their publication nominated FratRap.tumblr for a “Best Website” award. I mean, they published a thinly veiled blatant college creep show fantasy story with the byline “Sleezy Treez,” got God’s sake. How are you not going to miss a paper like that?
Of course, the one person who hasn’t been mentioned is Chris Faraone, tattooed co-founder turned sometimes (by that I mean never) JTTS blggr. His absence here was telling: instead of bearing the cross for hardcore underground hip hop in the face of internet haters, he was traveling the country, writing a book, winning awards, hosting art shows, covering politics wasted and killing at least one prominent conservative pundit (that we know of). I was there when it first popped off…
Lulz.
Thank you, violent American society in the age of sensational media….I look so forward to being hunkered in my Beantown abode drinking 1/4 pints of Paul Masson as 2 feet of snow paralyze my immediate surroundings over the next 48 hours, watching this drama unfold.
And what delicious drama it is. A cop on a psycho murder spree…the victim du jour? Other cops.
Ladies and gentlemen of the hood, we have a swine flu epidemic. As long as you’re not a cop, you’re safe. Pop your popcorn, and tune in to CNN. Best case scenario, numerous dirty cops get murked at the hands of a fellow cop. Worst case scenario, the filthy LAPD Department is succesful in murdering one of their own. Must see t.v.
In case you’ve been living under a rock…or living in Lowell, you might not be aware of what I speak of. Lemme catch you up.
Former Navy lieutenant turned pig, Christopher Dorner, was a happy go lucky 270 pound L.A. cop happy to perform his daily duties of locking up fellow brown people in the name of Christopher Columbus.
So one day, he sees a superior officer wrongfully abuse a mentally disabled man. The defenseless civilian, who was visibly a retard, was tasered, handcuffed, and kicked in the chest by Christopher’s co worker.
So ya boy has the bright idea of filing an internal complaint against a superior officer in the LAPD. Lemme break it down a lil more.
A black officer thinks he can snitch on a yt superior officer in one of thee most historically racially corrupt police departments this great Christian nation has ever seen. Not happenin.
So the LAPD reminds this crusader of justice of his nigger status by summarily firing him, and accusing him of filing false and slanderous claims against an upstanding retard abusing badge carrying pig. With all due respect.
Uh oh…Former military guy…uncle Tom ass nigga who achieved his dream of locking up black men…humiliated, slandered, disgraced, called a liar…wronged by the very system his Brent Gumbel ass bought into…Your boy loses it.
After getting fired, he falls back, writes a wacky manifesto, and plans out how he will gun down everyone that done did him wrong.
BOOOOM!
Retired Korean officer who testified against him…bong…your daughter is dead. So is her fgt ass fiance.
Another officer, and two others…bong…you caught that swine flu too.
Oh, did I mention? Homey is a trained marksman. He knows police protocol, and investigative practices…MUUUWAHAAAHAAAHHAAHA! I love it.
The same corrupt, life-destroying, racist, and corrupt system that is the municipal police force that built this bloodclot, is the same group of devils that shall feel his wrath.
Best bet the FBI, CIA, and KKK are on the case…he will be dead by the time Blizzard Nemo subsides…I’m just glad I get to watch it all as I reminisce on every dirty cop that fucked with me and my peoples.
Christopher, kill as many as you can…LAPD…kill that mufucka…either way, pigs are hunting pigs instead of us, and I’m just fine with that.
