Can I get an amen for all my bombing brothers out there in the street?
I'm back after a bit of an absence due mainly to work. Yes unlike most of the people who blog these days, I work.
So here's what's up and your next assignment on the never ending struggle for happiness.
I'm currently reading/studying a book called GRAFFITI L.A. STREET STYLES AND ART. This is a must read for any and all who live in the city. It is the true blog of our culture, perhaps an essay of what happens to us, around us and about us. This book is vital.
Here's a little anecdote:
I am in a constant struggle to discover who I really am. You think you struggle, there is not a morning, that I wake up and don't think about what I am doing, where I'm at and where I'm going.
Put on the new (or not so new) Kanye and was loving it. Despite my deep hate for people with ego's like that. Directly after him on the shuffle was Mobb Deep and I instantly felt a little more comfortable. Weird I think.
Had a little shin dig at a place that I'm house sitting right now. Had a bunch of friends over and a bunch of people who I don't know. There was a girl who refused to take her sun glasses off even though it was 4:00am and there was not a light to be found. Made me wonder if she had a lazy eye or something.
Really why do people wear sun glasses at night!?!?!?! There is no reason to hide those eyes of yours, I want to see them and I would imagine that there are other people who want to see them as well.
Needless to say after the whole sun glasses thing I saw her at Chris Garcia's birthday and I decided not to talk to her. Sorry.
I don't really care if it's cool to wear that shit when there is no light out. It's just lame to wear sunglasses at night. There was a song that was written in 90's or 80's about that. Now let me ask you if you know who wrote/performed it and then let me ask you where that motherfucker is now?
I rest my case. Shut the sun glasses at night down.
I leave you with a quote...
Ok smartie, go to a party
Girls are stancin the crowd is showin body
A chick walks by you wish you could sex her
But you're standin on the wall like you was Poindexter
Coming very soon.
FAKE TITS: MY PLEASURE, MY PAIN....
Tarl
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
This ain't rap it's blogsport...
Yo this ain't rap, it's blogsport your life cut short, you fell short pressure's on high, full court my team form killer instincts and fire arms dangerous stuff mine's brainstorm wars a life of a wild rebel, who run wild clik (blaow-blaow) ninja lay down (blaow) fool stay down. Appear, disappear, a hydro cloud
There you have it, a blog-dap-tation of a timeless classic. So first I would like to thank Prodigy for the words and then that round marble looking thing rolling around in my head for that wonderful stroke of genius.
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT A PG 13 BLOG. THERE MAY BE THINGS THAT WILL UPSET SOME. SO IF YOU READ THIS AND ARE OFFENDED, BY ALL MEANS POST SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
Friday 10:00pm. No transport right now because the car's in the shop. And when I say in the shop I mean I don't have one. Someday soon I will, so until then I mooch rides from my friends, walk and take cabs.
Taxi gets here, I hop in and we make our way to the Echo for the 87 stick up kids, Pacific Division and Brother Reade.
10:10pm @ The Echo, no one here, get to the bar, buy a 5 dollar beer and leave a dollar tip. I find myself in the corner thinking about the cost of beer in LA and playing bubble breaker on my cell phone. As we can already see I'm well on the way to going home with some lucky lady tonight.
Around 10:30 the crew starts to arrive, after hugs and kisses we make it out to the back for a smoke and some catch up.
87 Stick-up Kids go on stage and ROCK THE FUCKING HOUSE!!! For those of you who know me know that I'm a little partial, but still the show kicked ass. After 87, Pacific Division came on with a killer set that I ended up getting on stage for at the end. It was pretty killer. Thanks for the fun guys.
That was the first time I had seen Pacific Division live and have to say I was impressed. Check'em out here: http://www.pacificdivision.com
Then came Brother Reade, which was great.
After the show we hung out in the back.
CUT TO: Ext. Sunset Blvd @ 1:55am.
Nash and Tarl at a dead run headed for the liquor store. They make it just in time and leave with some beer for the after party.
Over to Nash's crib where the close homies and ladies hang for a bit tying a few on and cleaning poor Elana out of house and home.
3:30am James, Kelly and I leave to get some real grub. James somehow talks us into going down to Pacific Dining Car. I thought it was kinda cool to eat in the same place where they shot the three wise men scene in Training Day.
James and I got into a conversation about money, having, not having, but mostly wanting. From what I can remember. I found myself eating at a classy joint simply for the novelty of eating at a place "that I don't really belong in". Taco Zone would have been fine with me. You know not having a lot of money and all, one should not go spending too much on food.
This concept actually dug into me deeply. Why should I want to eat at a place that is regarded as "classy" just so I could feel classy. The funny thing was that the food was good and the place was nice but the only other people there were drunk and complete idiots, making a lot of noise and kinda fuck'n with the ambiance (French pronunciation).
I started to wonder if I was the same guy as that inebriated fellow who could barely make his way to the bathroom. Did I just not belong there, was I there to seek approval, not from someone but from myself? Was I there to buy expensive food because I wanted it? Or was I there to buy expensive food because I could? After much soul searching I have yet to come to a conclusion. I think the answer lies somewhere in between wanting good food and being willing to pay for it, and wanting to be in a place that others consider classy.
So after all that I picked up the tab.
6:30am: We made our way back to my neck of the woods, they dropped me off, I got up to the apartment, looked for a beer in the fridge, spent a bit of time wondering if James and Kelly were gonna have sex, after deducing that it was probably a 50/50 chance I gave up. With a little luck I would be asleep before the sun started shining through the windows.
I was lucky.
Tarl
P.S. That's my first blog. I like it. Hope you do too, and for all the haters out there I'm sure we'll meet somewhere on the long journey to the middle.
There you have it, a blog-dap-tation of a timeless classic. So first I would like to thank Prodigy for the words and then that round marble looking thing rolling around in my head for that wonderful stroke of genius.
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT A PG 13 BLOG. THERE MAY BE THINGS THAT WILL UPSET SOME. SO IF YOU READ THIS AND ARE OFFENDED, BY ALL MEANS POST SOMETHING ABOUT IT.
Friday 10:00pm. No transport right now because the car's in the shop. And when I say in the shop I mean I don't have one. Someday soon I will, so until then I mooch rides from my friends, walk and take cabs.
Taxi gets here, I hop in and we make our way to the Echo for the 87 stick up kids, Pacific Division and Brother Reade.
10:10pm @ The Echo, no one here, get to the bar, buy a 5 dollar beer and leave a dollar tip. I find myself in the corner thinking about the cost of beer in LA and playing bubble breaker on my cell phone. As we can already see I'm well on the way to going home with some lucky lady tonight.
Around 10:30 the crew starts to arrive, after hugs and kisses we make it out to the back for a smoke and some catch up.
87 Stick-up Kids go on stage and ROCK THE FUCKING HOUSE!!! For those of you who know me know that I'm a little partial, but still the show kicked ass. After 87, Pacific Division came on with a killer set that I ended up getting on stage for at the end. It was pretty killer. Thanks for the fun guys.
That was the first time I had seen Pacific Division live and have to say I was impressed. Check'em out here: http://www.pacificdivision.com
Then came Brother Reade, which was great.
After the show we hung out in the back.
CUT TO: Ext. Sunset Blvd @ 1:55am.
Nash and Tarl at a dead run headed for the liquor store. They make it just in time and leave with some beer for the after party.
Over to Nash's crib where the close homies and ladies hang for a bit tying a few on and cleaning poor Elana out of house and home.
3:30am James, Kelly and I leave to get some real grub. James somehow talks us into going down to Pacific Dining Car. I thought it was kinda cool to eat in the same place where they shot the three wise men scene in Training Day.
James and I got into a conversation about money, having, not having, but mostly wanting. From what I can remember. I found myself eating at a classy joint simply for the novelty of eating at a place "that I don't really belong in". Taco Zone would have been fine with me. You know not having a lot of money and all, one should not go spending too much on food.
This concept actually dug into me deeply. Why should I want to eat at a place that is regarded as "classy" just so I could feel classy. The funny thing was that the food was good and the place was nice but the only other people there were drunk and complete idiots, making a lot of noise and kinda fuck'n with the ambiance (French pronunciation).
I started to wonder if I was the same guy as that inebriated fellow who could barely make his way to the bathroom. Did I just not belong there, was I there to seek approval, not from someone but from myself? Was I there to buy expensive food because I wanted it? Or was I there to buy expensive food because I could? After much soul searching I have yet to come to a conclusion. I think the answer lies somewhere in between wanting good food and being willing to pay for it, and wanting to be in a place that others consider classy.
So after all that I picked up the tab.
6:30am: We made our way back to my neck of the woods, they dropped me off, I got up to the apartment, looked for a beer in the fridge, spent a bit of time wondering if James and Kelly were gonna have sex, after deducing that it was probably a 50/50 chance I gave up. With a little luck I would be asleep before the sun started shining through the windows.
I was lucky.
Tarl
P.S. That's my first blog. I like it. Hope you do too, and for all the haters out there I'm sure we'll meet somewhere on the long journey to the middle.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)