Tuesday, November 24, 2009

My Friend Who Was Precious

I just watched Precious. I am openly weeping.

It took me a few weeks to even try. I read the book "Push" when i was a teenager. I read the reviews that called Lee Daniels a "pathology pimp" and that lambasted both Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry. This will address none of those reviews. That's a whole other blog.

I sit here typing and weeping for a couple of reasons. The lesser one (SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU DON'T WANT SOCIAL COMMENTARY) is that I have been witness to a very callous, thoughtless group of people who have gone out of their way to make not only the character Precious, but the actress herself, the butt of cruel jokes. To some degree, it is to be expected. But i was honestly shocked at how thoroughly entrenched MY generation has become in the same self- hating psyche that has plagued generations before us. It has become clear to me that my peers, and even younger, have been trained to dehumanize the black tragic figure. I can name many characters in white movies- obese, considered unattractive, judged to be mentally deficient,- that have never received the treatment that this young actress has (Forrest Gump, Gilbert Grape, I can go on), & are held as heroes even. Sadly, we don't realize the self- hatred inherent in that sentiment. It's divide and conquer. She's not me. That's THOSE black people. Willie Lynch, anyone?

This point brings me to the fact that i knew a girl who had a lot in common with Precious. Except that she was thin, light-skinned and gorgeous. (Would they have felt differently about the movie if Precious were all those things?) So many times since this movie came to be, I've wanted to talk about her but i haven't. I have to now. She was my best friend, my 'big sister'. I hesitate to give her name because she was intensely private in life, and even tho I am going to try to tell some of her story here, I think she'd want me to hold that back. Spirit tells me so. So. We'll call her Veronica.

I met Veronica when i was 11 & she was 18. We moved into the same apt building in Williamsburg. I sweated her cuz she was older and fly and plus there weren't that many black people in the building. She saw something in me and let me hang out. (My mom is the coolest ever & took in all strays so Im sure that helped.) She had a young son, we'll call him Eric. They were both gorgeous. She took a liking to me, and eventually I became privy to her personal life, as well as all manner of shenanigans. We used to fight together (she was vicious in battle) flirt w/ boys together (she had a switch in TIMBS that i've only ever seen on Candace, in HEELS) sing together (I wrote and recorded my first song on her stereo), and more. She had some 'big sister' conversations with me that I am embarrassed to report I never 'man'd up' and had with my ACTUAL sisters.

Veronica's stepdad started raping her when she was 7. At 14 she shot him. She served time in a juvenile detention center (he didn't die). Was released when she was still a teen. Met the love her of life. Got pregnant. Found out that she was HIV positive late during the pregnancy. So Eric was born with HIV as well. Her mom was also infected with the AIDS virus from the same man, and passed when Veronica was about 22.

She was one of the baddest bitches i've met, to this day. She was gorgeous and sexy, fierce and scary (even tho she was tiny, she had hand skills. Actually, she had lots of guns too. I saw them. & i saw her shoot one once. She didn't let me be around for all that tho) brilliant and witty and funny and talented. Her poetry was awesome. We made songs out of some of her poems. And her capacity for love was amazing. It overwhelms me to this day. I would hate EVERYONE if i had had her life. She loved FIERCELY.

She had another child. That child was perfectly healthy. (yep, that can happen. btw) Then Eric died. I believe that with him went her will to survive. She died a couple of years later. She didn't live past 26. I think about her all the time. She always made me feel like i was so talented. I wanted her to be around to see me be successful. I know she'd be so proud.

I haven't yet been able to process whether or not i feel the story was told in a manner that makes a freakshow of this segment of the Black Experience. I'm not promising I won't feel that way. But right now I feel like Precious is a hero just like my friend was. And I am still crying.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Seinfeldian Bloggery

I promised myself I'd do at least one blog a month. September's gonna be over in 5 hours. So, here goes. 

Well. Here's what I've been up to (in case you don't follow me on twitter.. and even if you do)- this Hellpit Faeries album is coming along swimmingly! And all the fun's in the conception. This new apartment is chock full of ridiculousness, and we're both becoming more adept at harnessing this constant fuckery in a way that's gonna make us money. We like money here at The Scalpel. A lot. 

There's been shows (last night @ Santos with Skyzoo and Dujeous was full of awesome!) interviews (I hope that Soulculture piece doesn't make us sound quite as insane as I fear it will) drinking (took us 2 weeks of DILIGENCE to get thru the post- housewarming liquor.. we kept at it, though), daily man- related dramas (we love us some mens), and overall contentment. Life has been good! 

There's a porn star in our kitchen eating tofu. She ROOLS. Tonite the 3 of us are doing dramatic readings, interpretive dance, and opera singing of our various writings, live on ustream. 

On a related note, I have to say that for being lil ol' me, Ive managed to have some infuckingcredible ustream and tinychat moments. We're super exclusive with our tinychats, (there's like 8 of us. we aint nobody but we're tinychat snobs. if we don't know you, we scream "STRANGERDANGER!!!" & ban you) but stay tuned for the ustreams. :) 

Karl Rove follows me on Twitter. I suspect it's because i said I want Glenn Beck to die. I tweeted and asked him. I've yet to receive a response. I'm not afraid of you, architect. I've kept my nose clean. You got nothin' on me! 

My bday's the 16 of Oct. I'm gonna blog before that, about something more topical. Just, today is so chill. I got nothin to talk about, really. 

If there's something you want me to give my two cents on, please let me know. I probably have an opinion. I enjoy ranting, too. Give me something to rant about. This smiley happy crap's gonna get old soon. LOL

Comment yall!! talk to me. 


Thursday, August 20, 2009

Fuck Your Prototype.

I am kooky. Fun- loving. Crazy. Super silly. I've done things lots of girls have never done. Some things some girls won't ever do. I long ago decided that my life will be what I want it to be,.. and at this point, i want my life to be smiles and shenanigans. 

I'm also bright. Sharp. Talented. Blessed. Focused. Experienced. My resume isn't to be sneezed at. I have quite a ways to go. But i eat and pay rent off what i do, and i do what i love. And frankly, you haven't seen ANYTHING yet. 

I am NOT ditzy. Not simple. Not your escape. Not your experience. Not a puppet. Or a cartoon. Or a reality tv show. I am a real girl. I cry and scream and feel badly about myself and wish i was better and wish i was chosen and loved. I do not wish to be the girl who taught you something about yourself, or the girl with whom you sewed your royal oats. I am not to be tuned into.. and tuned out of. I'm not your vacation from reality. I am not your holiday. 

I have a friend who without fail says these two phrases to me every time we hang out- "There is no one like you. I never have this much crazy fun with anyone." .. and then "Life is not all about fun and games, son." As if I have been given some sort of Get Out Of Real Life Free card that no one else has access to. Rest assured, I have to work and sacrifice and compromise for my life to work too. I bleed so i can laugh. I'm fine with this. 

As my roommate pointed out, "Prototype" is one of the most insulting songs ever. "If we happen to part... we met today for a reason. I think I'm on the right track now." Please fuck off, 3stacks. I am not the road you travel on the way to your destiny. I deserve more. 

I am a real girl. 

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

The Type Of Child I Was

When I was young, say around 8 or so, I thought the lyrics to 'Papa Was A Rolling Stone' went-

"... and when he died, all he left us was a LOAN."

This, to me, was a most grievous offense. To be a deadbeat father was one thing. But to then die- and leave us with your debt?! Boy did that really burn me up!


Just felt like sharing.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Suck It Up And Sin!

You know what I hate? When folks do thinks they know they're not supposed to be doing, while appearing surprised that they’re doing it and
complaining about it the entire time.

For instance, when a married man sleeps with another woman, and is in
the pussy the entire time plagued with guilt, half- erect and mumbling
to himself and the poor girl beneath him, "I can’t believe Im cheating
on my wife!!... I should stop this...this is wrong." Guess what? You’re
still cheating on your wife, homeboy. Only now you’re fuckin up the vibe
and nobody can cum cuz you’re running your stupid mouth.

Or the accomplice to.. Say, a bank robbery. He’s the lookout, but
instead of looking out, he’s shuffling nervously from foot to foot and
repeating on the walkie- talkie system, "guys, I got a bad feeling about
this... maybe we should just leave." Thereby blowing everyone’s
concentration and drawing out the bank- robbing process.
Does that guy think that if the Feds tap into the line and hear him say
that, that belated sense of righteousness will factor heavily into the Judge’s
sentencing? You goin to JAIL, fool!

Listen. I’m not condoning bad behavior at all. We’re all human. And for
the most part, we spend our lives trying to do the right thing. But we
fail and slip into sin. And sometimes we take a running leap into sin.

Now, if browbeating yourself into doing the right thing works for you,
then go for it. But. If you know you have every intention of doing the
bullshit you know you’re gonna do, then why not just enjoy it? Your
guilt DURING the act will not lessen your guilt AFTER. Only now you’ll
feel dumb cuz you still did it anyway, and u made yourself miserable
while doing it.

Here’s the thing. Guilt is not repentance. So. Either be strong and do
the right thing like Spike Lee, or fix it afterwards, if you can. But
don’t ruin the debauchery for everyone else with your bitching and
moaning. Its just.. well.... the wrong thing to do.

*This has been a Public Service Announcment from Mela Machinko*

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Throwback Blog- Dear Ashanti

Shout out to the homie Miss Cocoa Luv for the request.. this is one of my personal favorites... new readers, enjoy! 


Dear Ashanti, 

Let me begin by offering you a heartfelt congratulations on your semi- successful comeback efforts. You are certainly looking better than ever, and it's a joy to come across your photos on various urban gossip blogs, etc. As for your music, well.. it's no worse than your other albums, i suppose. And although I can't say I am a fan, I really respect your sticktuitiveness. 

Your career, however, is not the purpose of this letter. I have been feeling the urge to write this for some time, and after an afternoon of cybersurfing, I could no longer hold back. So, here goes. 

Ashanti- I want to bone your man. 

Don't get me wrong- I always thought you guys made the most adorable couple, and I continue to. You're height compatible, both gorgeous people, and despite the fact that I know neither of you personally, I feel like I understand why you get along. 

But your man... oh, that wonderful man of yours. Thoughts of that full, sexy mouth and washboard stomach keep me awake at night, fantasizing about derrty, derrrty things. 
Ashanti, if I ever got half the chance, if we happened to be in the same room and you turned your head for even a fraction of a second, you would turn back to discover that I had done a gymnast's tumble triple- flip and landed crotch- first on your boyfriend's face, arms proudly splayed as if I'm a shoo- in for the gold. 

'Shanti girl, you have to know that I am usually not the kind of girl who covets other women's men. But your other half- well, he makes me forget my good Christian upbringing. Yes, his Sean John photo shoot officially made me lose my religion. Just a glimpse of that sexy, muscled winged back, or that perfect V.... I make plans to do things I would have to apologize to my parents for knowing about. I begin to get creative in my mind. I want to lay your boyfriend's naked, glistening body down and do a flare going into a body glide going into a reverse airbaby on top of him. I want to pull out those little sticks with the balls on the end and beat on his tummy with them like a xylophone. I want to have a doctor install a flip- top head on me like the little cartoon dude from the Reach toothbrush commercial.

Now, you don't strike me as a punk. And you certainly don't look like the type to turn the other cheek and just hand up all that juicy goodness to whoever wants it. But I will say this- that's an ass- whooping I would happily take. And I wouldn't even swing back. After all, if all goes the way I want it to, then nobody deserves an ass- whooping more than me, from you. NOBODY!!! 

So, in closing I would like to say that I don't envy your position. Because I cannot be the only woman willing to risk face scratches and a black eye just to run their tongue across your man's... anything. It must be a challenging life for you, and for this I am truly sorry. Not sorry enough to not throw my lovebox at him like he's wearing a catcher's mitt, though. 

Sincerely Yours, 


Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Fellas- Could You Do It?

So you meet a lady. She's gorgeous, smart, cool, funny, sexy, childless, independent and gainfully employed, with good values and decent credit. She's even a lil bit crazy like you like (you KNOW you like that shit.. quit it.) 

Yall hit it off. Yall start dating. Things are going well. Yall fight, but you make up and bone it out before you go to sleep, and wake up happy. Love blooms. 

A year passes. You've begun to notice that the initial quality of cleanliness of her home is declining. She was on her best cleaning behavior in the beginning, of course. But as the months roll on, you begin to see the signs.. not of simple messiness, but problematic dirtiness. Laundry goes undone and piled on the floor. Sheets go unchanged (and yall get it in frequently). She cooks her sexy ass off.. and then the next time you go in the kitchen, dishes are still there.. even if you went home and came back for another visit. 

Time goes on. Everything (else) is perfect! Going strong. She hasn't changed. She's still working out. Still giving head. Getting promotions at work. Watching football all sunday every sunday. Yall hug up and contemplate the future, and its even more appealing to you because she's NOT full court pressing you for a ring. You've mentioned the crib's state. Her feelings were hurt. You argued. She apologized. She pulled it together.. that time. Next time the parquet wood floor was muddy with old tracks when you came over. Her big screen plasma and the entertainment system it sits on are both covered in 1/2-inch thick dust. 

This woman is almost too- good to be true. She's your best friend and confidante, a bad bitch and you're sure she could be a good mother... Except, let's look a little closer at that future. It's natural for the home to be a bit messy when there's a brand new baby. But if this is how it is NOW, imagine where cleaning will rate on the priority list when she's nursing. And babies become ill very easily in unsanitary environments.

And yes, you've even cleaned her home. (She threw that at you in the argument- "If you have such a problem, YOU do it!").. and so, despite the fact that you don't actually live there (it's come up,  decisions have yet to be made) you clean. Until you notice that whether you do clean, or you don't, she's perfectly fine either way. So your subtle hints, your "see how easy this is?" and "If you do it like THIS then the upkeep is much simpler" fall on deaf, uncaring ears.

So, guys.. Here's the question- Could you marry your dream woman, if your dream woman was a slob?


Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Classic Machinko, Take One

I have been conspicuously silent on the blogging front, for a myriad of reasons. 
(Wait- HAS my lack of blogging been conspicuous? Is that an egotistical thing to say?)
Anyway, I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things. But, in perusing some of my older Myspace joints, I realized that I've got some great stuff up there that my whole new group of friends hasn't seen.. and probably that my old buddies wouldn't mind coming across again. 

So, in the interest of getting my feet wet again (and to buy myself some time) I'll be reposting a few of my more entertaining blogs, here. Enjoy! (and comment.. let me know how u feel!) 

Here goes- 


Current mood:Apertunists need not apply. 
Category: Friends
I think I've struck blogging gold here, people! 

Im airing out the crazies!! 

Here is a short but amusing conversation from a myspace crazy.. Apparently, I've blown my shot! Dammit, man!

(i've switched the email around so that it reads from the top down.)

----------------- Original Message -----------------

i would like to produce a single with you 

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: MeLa Machinko


who are you? where are you based? what kind of music do you do? what artists have you worked with? 
produce a single with me for what purpose?
tell me about yourself. 

----------------- Original Message -----------------

read my profile if you want to know about me, all your questions was good untill u ask who i work with, to me it sounds like ur being more of a apertunist and thats a bad sign so forget it , that turned me off and also saying to me that you cant be trusted so see ya, remember this its a good lesson, bye

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: MeLa Machinko


ok, bye. 

P.S. thanks for my next blog topic. :)
P.P.S. i think you meant "opportunistic." 


Here's what makes this even funnier- This is how his 'About Me' reads- 

"About me:

Now, did I miss the part where he answered all my questions? I think i can read good... right? 

Oh, and for posterity, his Who I'd Like To Meet...

"Who I'd like to meet:

I guess that means me, folks. 

And, the icing on the cake- his page isn't even a music page! He's got NO MUSIC on his page!! 

I get 'em all, folks. And starting now, I'll be bringin 'em to you. 



The conversation continued, as follows:

----------------- Original Message -----------------

yea, i dont really respect people that think that they should only get down with who is big and who they think could make things happen for them, what about people thats on your level , i think that makes people look bad and it holds alota people back too , i try to get down with people thats real and dont think they have to kiss my ass to get down with me and dont look what level am on to decide to be down with me

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: MeLa Machinko

sweetheart, i just asked you a question. sounds like you have an inferiority complex. maybe i was just asking so i could go listen to the records and judge how i feel about your production. Its a common question, for a lot of reasons.

With regards to working with people who are 'on my level', I work with all sorts of producers, from grammy- winning down to brand new in the game. Good music is good music. And speaking of music, you should put some on your page if you're actually trying to get people to work with you. 

A bit of advice- Your presentation is less than professional. Think about it a little more with the next singer or songwriter you approach. 

---------------- Original Message -----------------

yea so you know a few people thats why you come at me with all them questions at once, i cant spell that word right but you know what it is with you,,, my page is also for friends, my real movement is at demotrial. com, peace...

WWW. DEMOTRIAL. COM go blog that , dont even write back fool!!

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: MeLa Machinko

So i know a few people? thats what you got from what I said to you? 
Our educational system has clearly failed you. 

oh... Ive already blogged about you, hun. I move quick! 



Ok. Im done. going to be productive.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Ta Tow... or, Why U Shouldn't Listen To Anybody Ever.

After years of talking, dreaming, and making grand plans about it, finally in the summer of 2005, my bestie and I got an apartment together. We were so excited! We had both left somewhat shaky situations, mine being an annoying, naive and whorish roommate who would invite strange dudes she met in local bars into our apartment and then bone loudly while I tried, in vain, to sleep. Mind you, we lived on St. Nicholas and 125th st. So the characters she brought home were interesting, to say the least. I came home from my nearby barjob many a night to cross paths with some sinister- looking, skinny, long white tee'd up mini- thug scowling at me as he rifled through my refrigerator while the dumb slore stood nearby, wrapped in her bedding and giggling, embarrassed.

Our new place was a cute privately owned duplex in a cute community in an up- and- coming section of Newark.
6 Colgate Dr

The owners, we'll call them Jerry and Barb, were thoroughly charmed by the both of us, and we were happy to be renting from some good sturdy middle aged middle class black folks with their heads on straight as well... there would be no slumlord in our future. We were determined to be the best tenants they'd ever had. There'd be no problems from us at all! No, sir!

Upon receiving our keys, we were given passes to the pool, and our assigned parking space. To go from coming home from work dodging baseheads eating Popeyes on the stoop and coming upstairs to hear thug loving, to my own apartment with amenities? I was in heaven!

We spent a long day moving in all our furniture, (by ourselves, i might add.. we were so gangsta wittit!) and running around for odds and ends. At the end of the day, as we were driving back in for the last time that night, exhausted and anxious to sleep in our beds in our apartment for the very first time, we drive into our parking lot... to discover that someone had parked in our assigned space! At 1am, at the end of a really long day, with NO other available parking spots around.

We were exhausted to the point of tears, and clueless as to what to do.

As we sat in our idling car, a neighbor who had introduced himself as we were moving in, an aging gay black man with a tiny puppy constantly in hand, came up to our car and asked what was wrong. We told him tearfully, "someone's parked in our spot!! We don't know what to do!"

The man (we'll call him Tim) snapped his neck back as if slapped and proclaimed "Oh NO! We do NOT play that around here! unh- uhh, hunny! ta- TOW, ta- TOW!!", and pointed to the sign bearing the number to a towing company.

We looked at each other, a bit taken aback. "Really? Just like that?", we asked him.

Tim: "Oh YES Hunny!! You have to let these people KNOW or they will be ALL up in here in our space, DOIN what they wanna do. Unh- uh! You better CALL that number!! The sooner the better! Ooh and yall look tired too!! When will YOU be going to bed? Ta- TOW!!"

We thought, well thats a bit much, isn't it? what if it's the guest of a neighbor? or a neighbor even?

Tim: "Hunny WHO is thinking of YOU?! It is ONE a.m. and you are OUT in the streets!! Do what's good for YOU, AND our comMUniTY!! Ta- TOOOW!!"

We finally come around. Yeah, we think. Tim's right! We've had a long day! We're sleepy! No one's thinking of us besides neighbor Tim! We need to put our foot down and teach these interlopers a lesson! Maybe this is the way they do things in this complex, and we need to fall in line and present a united front! TA- TOW!!!

We call the towing company, doze until they arrive, wait while they tow the offending vehicle, slide into our spot, head into the crib, undress and get into bed. About 15 minutes later, our phone rings. My bestie answers, and i hear her call me frantically. I run into her room.

"What is it?" i ask.

"It was Jerry's car we towed."

"Our new landlord, Jerry?!"

"The one and only."

On our first night of tenancy, we managed to tow our own landlord's car. Way to not cause any trouble.
The thing that hit us the hardest, was the fact that it wasn't within either of our personalities to tow the car, no matter whose it was. It was just more trouble than we had the heart to make, without the coaxing from Tim (whose name became "Ta- Tow" to us from then on). True, we were tired and frustrated. But left to our own devices, Im sure we would have found an alternative. Tried to drive around or something.

Damn mean man making us tow our landlord. SMH.

So, yeah. Don't be just listening to people. Especially when your spirit is telling you not to.

Ta- TOW!

Friday, January 9, 2009

Video Game Hip Hop (This Doesn't Count As My First Blog!)

Its 3.30 am. I got Flight of the Conchords on the boob tube, Ann Coulter paused (in all of her leonine intensity) in the background of this very window, listening to m-phazes beats and wishing i could catch hold of any one of the multitude of ideas flying thru my brain long enough to compose a funny, entertaining blog about it. Since I began typing I've changed the subject on myself 3 times. 

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned in my old blogs on the Space, but there's always music playing in my mind. It's like a satellite radio station, and my subconscious is the programmer. The only time the music isn't playing is when Im fully focused on music playing on the outside of my mind. (Also during good sex, but I'm trying not to get sidetracked.. so shut up) Normally, during everyday activities, conversations with other people, and the like, the music adjusts its volume accordingly. Then, when conversation ceases, or intense focus isn't needed, it switches the volume way up. (So, if you and I are having a conversation and I burst into a song that DIDNT just come on the radio, or WASNT playing in a car rolling by.. then you've bored me 'til my mind turned the music up on you. My apologies. I don't mean to be rude.) 

So, it stands to reason that this blog, a blog that I do not consider to be the real first  'New Money Machinko' blog (i have a list of topics I want to write about. but I gotta get my mind right so its what its sposedta be), will be about the music thats currently playing in my mind. 

Right now its video game music. I think its because the Simpsons movie alluded to something. I can't remember.. i was doing 4 other things. 

Hip hop and video games obviously have a long standing and thoroughly intertwined relationship. Both rose to significant popularity and more widespread accessibility in the 80s, both are mediums of expression that have deep cultural significance. And they enjoy something of a symbiotic relationship. Rappers enjoy the exposure, and the props, that come along with being featured in popular sports video games such as Madden and NBA Live. And the artists lend the video games (I regret the use of this term) 'street cred', an aesthetic authenticity that aids in the selling of the games to the young, culture (vulture?)- hungry masses. 

But before rappers were submitting material to EA Sports thru EMI, the folks who were composing the music for earlier video games were creating music that shaped the lives and psyches of those same rappers, and the rest of us, too. 

Im certain that, if asked, we can call to mind our favorite 'video game beat' (feel free to leave yours in the comments section, as I have no confidence in my ability to recall them all). Producers have a history of sampling their favorite video games. Of course, as hip hop rose in visibility and popularity, and those Japaese composers and gaming co's came calling for their checks just like other sampled musicians, the practice reacted accordingly. The Nick Fury- produced, Pac- Man sampling Lil Flip song, Game Over, is a classic example of an entertaining video game beat that got popular.. and then got outed. I can't say with complete certainty (damn my memory!) but I do believe that Fury told me that his publishing situ took a complete L on that song. I do know that he made a considerable effort to sample less in future productions. Or at least, less obviously. 

That said, the selfish fangirl in me wants to send a big hug to Eric G, for instance, for his Double Dragon beat, which is an awesome take on D.D. that is masterfully chopped so that it feels like the familiar loop, but has been injected with dope hip hop drums and given a more palatable song format. All the better to rap over. (I'd post it here but I haven't actually contacted Eric G at all about it, and that'd just be foul. LOL)

I always thought 'Mike Tyson's Punch Out's music would make for a great rap song, and Statik Selektah felt the same way when he used the sample in a same- titled beat for his 2007 record "Spell My Name Right", featuring an awesomely scary guy named Big Shug, whom I hadn't heard of, I won't lie. But tough guy rap ALWAYS rocks my world. (sidebar- daggone hip hoppers! how u gon intentionally spell words wrong and then demand that folks spell ya name right? how bout you make it easy on yaself and all of us, Mr. Static Selector?!) 

I guess its still cool to act like you didn't like Fresh Prince raps even back in the days, but when he came out with his "I Think I Can Beat Mike Tyson", that song, the video game, and Mike being from BK all came together to make that man forever legendary to my young mind. Fuck your chubby pics, urban gossip sites! And had i not been knee- high to a grasshoppa, when Robin Givens brought her bitch ass on Barbara Walters, I wanted to whoop that trick, too! 


One game that I always wished would be sampled, but I've never heard it done (and if my Reason wouldnt keep giving me that weird error msg about MIDI drivers and not working, Id make it myself) is Super Mario World 2, on Super Nintendo. It was the first game that let you choose to be other than Mario or Luigi. You could be Princess Toadstool or shawty wit the mushroom hat whose name I don't know. 
The most slept- on thing about this game was the fact that, when you paused it, it played a stripped- down, drums and baseline only version of the composition. 
I would leave the game paused for hours on each board, just to listen to the baseline. It was funky as HELL. and it was different, and happier, on the outside boards. then, when u went underground it became more sinister. Either way, them japanese boys were playing their asses off. 

No one pays me any attention because Im just a girl, and Im not a gamer at all (i stopped caring long ago.. right about around when the games I mentioned became outdated). But, if anyone took the baseline of the 1st board of Super Mario World 2, and made a beat... and that beat made a dope song... well, I'd have no other choice but to give everyone involved a lap dance. 
The End.


New Year, New Money. Machinko.