the BFFs go to Greensboro

so yesterday i did the radio show with George Brazil i attempted to promote all over the internet. it had its rough spots but was pretty hype considering the set up and the fact that we had only one glorified practice beforehand that was peppered with chronic, champagne, random missions, and 5 hours of driving on my part. it was a good experiment for us debuting it like that on the radio.

there were some interesting moments for me that nite .....

i arrived still hashed-out feeling, looking for the mexican spot i'm meeting GB at. i come around a corner and hear an abbreviation of my gov't name being uttered ... i turn and see the homey L in Japanese, an OG of the chapel hill hip-hop scene.



he now lives in GSO. we palaver for a moment. he keeps staring at the many-shades-of-pink colored fabric creeping out of my shoes. i begin to question my latest obsession of wearing socks meant for little girls. they are just so comfortable in the summer, like they dont even exist, and they come in all these crazy colors and i get them for a dollar a pair at Roses and i had just bought those that day. the combination of that and my short shorts and backpack and water bottle with finger loop have me lookin like i don't know what, but i roll with it.



i get to the joint and i end up getting a miller lite in a small jar for $2.25 and then on the way out i see the special of a pint of shiner bock for $1.50. i got money in my wallet, but it annoys me for about 3 seconds until i realize that i prob would have got the miller lite anyway cause im just a freak like that.

i want to blaze but i got no piece. GB has some red bull colas, tho. aiight then. since i always have a knife on me, the alterations will be easy. and the contraption will be disposable.

i need to find a place outside the building to handle this but i am right in the middle of downtown GSO. i am feeling kinda edgy from my red bull. i leave the building bound for some empty courtyard i saw out the window and immediately hone in on the crev spot. i creep behind some electrical boxes or whatever, and based on the all the cig butts and candy wrappers i am not the first person to hang back here. it's totally the type of place i would piss, i am seriously one of the best public urinators that i know. anyways, i expect to see someone smoking crack and/or drinking listerine back there, but no one pops up and asks me for a favor.

i do what i needed to do and stomp the can.

GB djs for a bit and is on point. we do the show. hilarity ensues, at least for us. afterwards, the program director comes in and sees me standing there with my shirt off, sweating. i needed to get into character, i guess. he has seen me play before so it is not as awkward as it could have been.

we actually get 2 calls from california, different dudes, both who tuned in and dug it. i speak to one for a minute. he seems inspired, which is turn inspiring for me. reachin em. briefcase represent.

i want to catch one again before i drive home. i rinse out GB's red bull can and get ready for round 2. this time i am posted in my car parked on the street. its dark outside now. i lean back in my seat, clocking for cars HARD. i feel secure and get one and then go for another and swear that i am in the middle of some crev business as a cop drives by me hella slow. i do that thing where you hold it in and hold still as fuck and wait for them to drive past and then i exhaled. they keep going mad slow and after a sec, appear to be turning around. i crush the can in my hand, toss it out the window, and haul ass into some neighborhood i know nothing about. i am wigged out and pull over at one point to toss my backpack with illicit horseradish jar in the trunk. a series of turns and a phone call with GB later, i am back on the road.

i recently broke my ipod connector-tape-thingy by getting out the car with my ipod in my lap and breaking off the thing that you plug into the ipod. what do you call that anyway? do i know and just can't remember? so i been listening to straight up tapes lately (guns n roses and voivod). i start rewinding my Use Your Illusion 2 tape and about halfway through, my stereo loses its cool and spits the tape out. what has apparently happened is that the tape deck part has gone nuts and froze up and the radio cannot be turned off. fortunately, i have figured out how to turn the stereo down again. for a while no matter what direction you turned it, it just got louder and louder. but now, if i crank it really hard to the side, i can get it to turn down. after 20 minutes of loud radio rap, i decide i have had enough and turn it down completely.

huevos out.

PS George Brazil DJs on WUAG 103.1 in Greensboro, NC every other sunday nite from 7 - 10. they support me and you should support them.

WATCH THIS

i know i haven't been the bloggiest of bloggers as of late, but this video below is like a blog entry. pass it on to your friends.

for blogs from me and the coolest kids in the universe, go here.

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

dear cocksucker(s),

thank you for your excellent design of hwy 85 in NC. you are an inspiration to us all. i am so glad that you set up a system of confusing highway exits so that a normal commuter such as myself who has driven the same route thousands of times still gets lost on the way back from downtown durham. fortunately, you have made it so that when one DOES miss their exit, they get the benefit of cruising miles and miles without any hope for redemption. nothing like passing the day with big rigs and power lines with no chance for escape. missing an exit could/should/would be considered the fault of the driver, sure, but as a reward for our stupidity, you have given us clueless motorists the benefit of NO MOTHER FUCKING EXITS until we are deep in the heart of what may or may not be hillsborough. i would love to meet you (y'all?) in person and shake your hands and pat your backs and give you money and hookers and bottles of champagne because i truly love you and i have no desire at all to shoot you in the fucking face for the number of times i have had a fucking coronary for being "lost at sea" on your god damn fucking stupid stupid stupid prison of a fucking road. fuck you fuck you fuck you, and i mean that with the best of intentions. may your lives feel like one long and endless journey, much like the one you have created for the citizens of North Carolina.

love,

j waves

my sister in JUXTAPOZ

hey homeys, click this ma fucka to be wowed, my sis is on the grind.

tell em, kanye

so my homey mild davis put me on the 2008 wrap up, which if you don't know what it is, just watch this, the MC formerly known as Mad Skillz doin his rundown of the antics of the previous year (he been doing these for a while now, last year's was AWESOME) .... anyways, i heard the track before i saw this video and i had to google half the things he was talking about ....



i can't believe that ME of all people had no idea about the Soulja Boy/Ice T beef thing .... i like both those guys, honestly, but even though Ice T IS an old ass man, that guy HAS made so many contributions to the game, you can't knock him even though he did make Cop Killer and now he plays one on TV, that's hustlin right?!?!? shouts to all the SVU fans!!! (and speaking of hustlin, peep the video below ..... me and the homey Crash Overdrive from b.e.a.r. doing big thangs, the vid is dark, but you will get the idea) but what inspired me to write this blog is this quote from Kanye ... this is the exact same shit i say to people everyday, not so much the comparing Soulja Boy to Nas part, um yeah, but the general bullet point of "ain't no fuckin rules to this shit" .... it's 2009 mother fuckers!!!!

“Soulja boy is fresh as hell and is actually the true meaning of what hip hop is sposed to be. He came from the hood, made his own beats, made up a new saying, new sound and a new dance with one song. He had all of America rapping this summer. If that ain’t Hip Hop then what is? A bunch of wannabe keep it real rappers that ain’t even relevant, recycling samples trying to act like it’s 96 again and all they do is hate on new shit? Niggas always talk about the golden age but for a 13 year old kid, this is the golden age!!! That song was so dope cause everything he said had a hidden meaning… that’s Nas level shit… he just put it over some steel drums which is also some Nas shit if you had the 2nd album cassette with the bonus track “Silent Murder” on it. In closing… new niggas get ya money$$$$$$$$$$ Keep this shit fresh and original…. ain’t no fuckin’ rules to this shit and that’s what real hip hop is to me”

more LIVING DEAD freestyles ....

drop it like it's not

so as i freak out about my life and what i'm doing and should i move to europe or LA or just kill myself, i am starting to go through my "shit" and determine what i really need to keep and what i need to throw out/give away/burn (oh the poems i wrote in high school, i was so delicate) and yesterday i came across a very heavy box full of my collected baseball cards and stamps (the Garbage Pail Kids are somewhere else, though i am happy to say i still have the ENTIRE first series in mint condition if anyone wants to pony up, like, a couple G's or something for it - and that's "thousands", not "gangsters") and yeah, the box fell to the floor and spilled so i had to go through everything as i put it away, duh, so for serious, there are baseball cards in there that used to be worth $$$ and now no one gives a FUCK!!! remember this one?



what did this fucker do again? cork his bat? and what about this one?



that joint used to have mad trading weight!! now it's garbage. it was listed at 17.95 on one site, which is actually a lot better than i thought it would be, but still, that shit used to cardboard gold to collectors! way to go, you juicer fuck. i have a 1961 willie mays that is only, like, 40 bucks! less i think, i can't even remember!!! why am i saving this shit!!! barry bonds, frank thomas .... skybox basketball cards!! remember those??? rookies for vlade divac, david robinson, shawn kemp ... the david robinson card is 3 bucks!!! "buy it now" for three fuckin buxxxxx ... the fact alone that i have had something in a shoe box since 1990 should make it more than three bucks ... a used tissue from 1990 should be worth more than 3 bucks, that's almost 20 years old!!! it's a fuckin antique!! don't even get me started on the comic books .... everyone wants to slap the shit out of their mom for throwing away that box in the attic with the Nolan Ryan rookie, but why? cause you could have sold it for a million dollars and retired from your job as a copy machine repair man? no way, dude, no one cares. brooks robinson, warren spahn, robin roberts, the eric davis rookie, the rod carews, the mother fuckin will clarks and the carl yaztremskis (sp?) and the error cards and the, uh, i dunno, remember when kirk gibson hit that grand slam or some shit and he was hype for a second, mother fuckin 1986 o-pee-chee Wally Joyner .... apparently my tony gwynn rookie is worth about 40 but i can never find it, wonder if i traded it for bitch ass ken griffey, ruinyourcarrer.

of course, it would be in total Jonny G fashion for me to have all the cards that just don't make it into that first tier, hence all my collections, i was always just not quite good enough or willing to spend the money for the real bangers, always a wannabe faking it like i knew what i was doing, much like the music "career" i seem to have fooled some of y'all that i possess when in reality i am no different than the kid trying to trade his Devon Whites and Willie McGees for Reggie Jacksons and Roberto Clementes .....