Yeah, you know what this is. It’s a celebration, bishes. Grab a drink, grab a glass… after that I grab yo’ a**…and then we’ll all sit in  a semi-circle, indian style, and talk about how corny it is to use Kanye Wests Japan Happy Fun Time America Now Bear logo, so brazen and unapologetically. Dick heads. The bear is not the point. The point is, you graduated, and we celebratin’! Come out to the Soapbox  (downtown, Wilmington NC) on Friday, May 18th where a number of UNCW’s premier artists will be performing, hosted by me, UNCW’s posterboy for everything thats ever been entertainingly awesome ever.

Be there or be square. Or be there and be square. Either way, just be there. Plus, I dont really care if youre square, as long as youre there. But if youre not there and youre square, well, that just makes you double square…which makes you, by the rules of geometry, a cube. I think. I was never really good at geometry. But you know what I am good at? Rap! So, come out and watch me rap. Or be square…whatever.

Well, here’s something special. The host of TV’s “Young, Broke and Beautiful,” Brokeass Stuart,  profiled me on his goddamn website. Why? Because I’m an awesome rapper? Possibly. Maybe because I’m an exemplary model of human kindness? Also possible. But, really…it’s because I’m broke. And being broke makes me special. And being special is pretty dang cool. Being Special is also how Ed was able to have it made. But I’m not Puerto Rican…Im just speakin so that juno.

Anyhow, check out this little diddy the Bo Jackson of Broke did with yours truly.

You might have heard of this week’s broke-ass, Haji P.; if not, familiarize yourself immediately!  Haji’s a member of Rec-League, one of Northern California’s preeminent hip-hop crews (Richie Cunning, anyone?) and released his own rap album, Neighborhood Kids.  He also has a pretty sweet day job as a program director for the Boys & Girls Club of Santa Cruz.  Check out Haji’s awesome website here and read on for his clever money-saving tip!

Name: Haji Pajamas

Age: 30

Occupation: Program Director for the Boys & Girls Club of Santa Cruz. I also moonlight as an extremely successful rap artist.

What neighborhood do you live in?: I live in a neighborhood that clearly doesn’t recognize the value of a Cracker Barrel.

What are you listening to these days?: I’ve recently kept the song “Deacon Jones” by Louis Jordan on super repeat. Other than that, a lot of Big Maybelle and TiRon.

Best money saving tip: Don’t date. If you do…don’t be ashamed of coupons and dollar menus. If they stick around for date #2, it’s true love.

What do you refuse to spend money on?: I absolutely abhor the idea of paying money for a sandwich. If I trade a singe dollar for some bread and meat, it better be made by the hands of Jesus himself. Furthermore, it better be stacked as high as the sandwiches on the Scooby Doo show.

Most expensive thing you’ve ever bought: A college degree.

How’d that feel?: Like Calvin from the McDonald’s commercials.

Favorite cheap eat: Bo Jangles. $3.99 for a Cajun chicken biscuit, bo’rounds and large
sweet tea…and if you make friendly with the cashier you could probably finagle a couple of extra free biscuits.

Favorite dive bar: Blue Post, in Wilmington, NC. The booze, prices and company are great…but more importantly, they keep huge tubs of free Dum-Dums at the bar. They also keep my album on rotation  in the jukebox…so that’s always a plus.

Best deal you’ve ever gotten: For the first two years I lived in California, the lady at the SF
Caltrain station would always hook me up on the ticket fare. At first I thought it was because she was trying to put the moves on me…which wouldve been totally fine cause I thought her gold tooth was adorable. But then, one day I paid with my credit card and she asked for my ID. She looked at my birthdate and said “WHAT!? You’re 29? I thought you were 15!?” She then started charging me the adult fare.

Favorite free thing to do: Inspiring youth.

If you woke up a millionaire, what’s the first thing you’d buy?: I’ve always said, “If I ever get rich, the first thing Im gonna do is pay my mom back for everything she’s done for me!” But in all honesty, I’ll probably just get a new pair of sneaks and finish my DVD collection of The Muppet Show.

Despite not having money, do you still love your life?: Without question! I’d like to think I have a Kid ‘n’ Play meets Parker Lewis thing going on.

Do you own my book?: Yep. I actually stole it from Rob Rush. I felt like it would’ve been in bad taste to spend money on it.

Best hangover cure: Chex Mix, Planters Heat Peanuts, and an Orangina. Booyah!

Are you a hipster?: Nope. I like the safety of having brakes on my bike…and the only thing I want vintage are my grandparents.

Stolen from here…

Whatever it is I’m doing in rap, I know this for a fact…I’m doing it in the wrong place. I mean, dont get me wrong, America’s great when it comes to things like: best dance crews, funniest home videos, and dating white women to piss their dads off; but I’m really starting to get the impression that our appreciation for music is a bit sub-par…or, as my chaps across the pond say, ” Two pips beneath the cricket. Ya lyke degs?”

I dont know if they really say that.

The guy in the video above is Professor Elemental. I received an email from him a couple of weeks ago in which he had this to say…

“I heard your neighbourhood kid album last year and was truly blown away…as far as I’m concerned that was the perfect hip hop album.”

Yeah, I thought he may have been listening to a totally different album too. Turns out…we’re both wrong.  Anyhow, he’s from Manchester, UK. For those of you keeping track of my rappology career…this is nye the first of time I’ve gotten attention from the United Kingdom. First there was “Monkey Junk.”- an EP I put together with euro-superproducers, Fatman & Tropical. Then, there were the duets with Shea Soul….and now, El Professitorio Elemento. Im pretty sure Im being groomed to be knighted.

All hyperbole aside, PE is a well accomplished artist overseas…his resume reads of work with some of the worlds most acclaimed hip hop artists , workshops for children, and various performance pieces outside of hiphop. Basically, a whole buncha hype sh*t.  He does both comedic-character, and “real-rap” raps. Both….mother…freakin…incredible. So, when he asked me to collaborate on a project, you know my answer was an emphatic, “Yahmo be there.” Professor Elemental & Haji P. …way cooler than William and  Kate.

Im on a world tour, with Professor my man, going each and every place with a mic in my hand. Except Libya. Sh*t is not poppin’ in Libya right now.

Pip.

(according to interviewers, this is the only photo i've ever taken.)

Brace yourself. Im going to tell you something. And when I tell you this…you may be rendered comatose with chagrin. Chagrin is a dope word. People should use it more often. Like, “B*TCH! My dog just died, Im chagrined as HECK!”

Sorry. Back to my manifesto. Here it is….*sigh*

Being interviewed terrifies me. I know. Its a complete contradiction to my otherwise thugged out and indomitable demeanor. But, its the Abe’s-honest truth. Its way beyond my comprehension. I can speak to gatrillions on stage (which is a low estimate for the average show), but when it comes to intimate conversation…I get boner-dead. My brain hits the “PEACE, NIGGA!” button, and leaves me defenseless against audio and visual recording devices.

For a visual, you can peep my “Yo, Haji P, you on crack, dawg?” jitters here. But, you can also keep reading to peep the interview I did with with Mat Weir for the Streetlight Records blog.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, rap was more than just bling & hoes. Hip-hop was about finding inner strength to rise up beyond your surroundings and personal faults to achieve something higher; sometimes it was about just having fun and appreciating the good times because they never last. Luckily, Santa Cruz’s own Haji P. remembers the true essence of hip-hop and spits its knowledge whenever he can.

Born in Hawaii and raised between the islands and family in New Jersey, Haji experienced the beauty of life while still staying grounded in the projects. While attending college in North Carolina, he began working at a radio station spinning an array of hip-hop and started the rap duo, Brown Co. with longtime friend, Dun Dee. In 2007 the two released Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood; a compilation of heavy beats and rhymes ranging from making the most out of life to dealing with the realities of modern day racism. Later that year Haji decided to head for the West Coast, landing in our dear Santa Cruz and later releasing his solo album, Welcome to the Neighborhood.

Like Beautiful, Welcome is an album littered with witty rhymes about the obstacles of every day in the life of an independent hip-hop artist. Haji masterfully weaves together stories of dating while broke, the realities of not-so-hidden racism in a politically correct world, and trying to make it in life all while maintaining a positive mental outlook. This is hip-hop for the true fan and anyone who might just be looking beyond the glitzy image for something real and close to the heart.

Mat: How are you doing man?

Haji: (laughs) Very intimidated! (points to the recorder) I feel like I shouldn’t be because [the recorder] is so small. But I’m doing great, fantastic. Fantastic times ten.

M: Right on. Fantastic times ten, that’s pretty good, man. (laughs) First thing’s first, how’s the album, Neighborhood Kid, doing?

H: In my head it’s doing phenomenally. Naw, it’s actually doing pretty good. I’m pretty proud of the work it’s done. It’s getting recognized outside of my general area, so that’s always good.

M: I love the line on “Neighbor” when you say,” What? You’re going to burn down my church but I can’t get a cup of Kool-Aid?” That cracks me up.

H: Man, that song is real. That’s a real song. (laughs). I mean, everything on the album is loosely based on reality, plus some imaginary points. But we had a neighbor, Dunny and I, who—at the time we also worked at a toy store, so we had the coolest stuff that would come out. We lived in a nice cul-de-sac in a nice townhouse. We were the youngest kids in our neighborhood besides parents with kids and our door was always open. You know, we’d sit outside on the porch and everything was cool. We always had new Playstation games or whatever, fighting with toy swords outside, so kids liked hanging out with us. Know what I mean? Like the neighbor’s kids loved us, but every time we were outside, their dad would pull them back in the house. And every time he saw us in cars or whatever, in the house, he’d always give us smug looks. So we would always assume it, but I mean, you never really know. You don’t want to be so presumptuous as to say, “I know what you’re thinking.” But one day, we were getting out of the car as he was getting out of his and his daughter comes out and she says, “Like those kind of black people, daddy?”

M: Oooo

H: And we were, “Awww, I know whatever he said it was nothing good.” So that’s what that song was about, it was about that neighbor. That dude was so ill to us, just super ill.

M: Damn. I just don’t understand that mentality. Especially since you work at the Boys & Girls Club. Obviously you’re good with kids.

H: I mean, I understand any parent’s position. If I don’t know that dude I’d be like, “Why is my kid always hanging out on that porch?” I fully understand that. But we made friends with all the parents. It was a small area, so we made friends with everybody. It was nothing if the whole family came over, or whatever the situation was. It was just that particular family, Or not even the family, because the mom was cool. Mom was cool with us, it was just the dad. He was not feeling us at all. (laughs) He’d be like, “So, how’d you get that car? What do you do?” Know what I mean? Just these little snide comments. We lived in a pretty nice area, we had pretty nice stuff. We were doing it. I’m a college graduate, goddamn, I deserve it! (laughs) I deserve what I earn, know what I mean?

M: So you moved out here in 2007 then?

H: Yeah, late 2007. It took a minute. It wasn’t home, you know? And when I left Wilmington, I was so glad to leave. I was like, “I’m going to leave here and never remember you guys again. Just because I had been there for so long, know what I mean? But the minute I got out here I was like, “Yo man, this ain’t the same. (smirks) There’s no biscuits, no racism (laughs). What am I going to do?” Plus, it was another culture shock again. So it just took me time, I didn’t know where to go, I didn’t know what to do. But now that I understand what’s happening I freakin’ love it! I still miss home to no avail, I learned in Wilmington that that’s my home. But I definitely like where I live now. Wilmington will always be there when I visit but I’m loving Santa Cruz.

M: Let’s get into the music. How do you write?

H: it’s kind of weird. Usually I can finish a song in the car. It’s just in my head. I don’t need to freestyle everything, so I just repeat lines in my head and as soon as I get home I write it down before I can forget it. But if I’m just at home and something hits me, I can’t sit down and write. So what I do, I don’t know if this sounds vain or not, but I have to stand in front of a mirror and move so I can watch myself like I was performing. I write it like I was performing it. So while the beat’s playing, I’ll come up with a line. And while I’m searching for the next line, I’ll just keep repeating the first one. Plus it helps when I do shows because I’ll have the song memorized before I even put it down on paper.

M: Yeah, exactly. And that way you’ll know what you’re going to do on a certain line.

H: Exactly. So unless I’m in the car I can’t be still when I write. I have to be moving around.

M: In your music, you make a lot of references to a lot of different things. For instance, in one line you talk about the Black Panthers.

H: I guess there’s no specific literature that I’m into. There’s one book, called Ishmael, it’s the dopest book I think I’ve ever read. I don’t know if it’s an introspective book so much but it’s about a young boy. The opening title is, “All I’ve ever wanted to do was save the world,” and he ends up talking to a gorilla in a glass case. I don’t want to spoil it if anyone reads the book, but he’s asking and answering a lot of questions about himself to this gorilla in the glass case. But I don’t want to spoil it for anyone who’s going to read it. It’s an awesome book. But I guess I read just more introspective things. As far as literature about the Panthers and Black History, I do but a lot of it was fed me growing up just because I am African-American, you know? I learned a lot about it growing up, I learned about it through personal experience etc.

M: But that’s cool you were fed it growing up. I mean, just because you’re African-American doesn’t mean you have to learn it all.

H: I guess it doesn’t, but I have a very strongly rooted family. My family is very proud of obstacles they’ve tried to overcome—have overcome—you know, trial and error. So they instill a lot of that in me. And usually if my mom talks about something –and she was very big on this—if she tried to tell me something, she’d say, “You don’t believe me, read it.” And then, as the defiant kid, I’d say, “Pfff, fine, I’ll go read it, whatever.” Then, once I was done, “Damn, she was right. Damn she made me read!” (laughs). Dirty trick! When I’d get grounded, I would have to write essays about why I’m grounded. But nowadays, I thank my mom at least once a week. I call her back and I thank her once a week. My mom’s my dawg, dude! She gets mad at me, though, because I won’t write a song about her. I told her I wouldn’t because, “you should know already.” I don’t have to write a song about it.

M: How did you get started at the Boys & Girls Club?

H: Good question. I don’t know. I got started at this Boys & Girls Club just because I came down. I came down here on a whim, I had no plans. I gave away everything I owned, and what I could sell I sold. So I came here with no money, no job, and I was like, “Crap!” One of my homeboys—I know it sounds like I’ve had a trillion jobs, cause I did!—but I used to do personal training at a YMCA and while I worked in radio I was volunteering at the Boys & Girls Club. Long story short, I got the job and started working my way up. I’m doing a lot for the Club, and kids outside of the group. I do a lot of community work with kids, I’m very big on that. Very big.

M: I definitely could tell. On Record Store Day last year, there was the one, lone kid dancing and you gave him a couple free CDs. I was like, “Alright, you practice what you preach.” I thought that was cool.

H: I know I need it personally. I’ve had my not-so-great moments with kids too, plus I have smaller cousins who have gone through all kinds of stupid stuff that kids don’t really need to go through. So I try to do a lot for children. I’m in the process of legitimizing a charity called the “Neighborhood Kid Foundation,” and it will do a lot of work for the Boys & Girls Club specifically, just because that’s the program I work with. But there’s other child organizations that I’d like to raise money for too.

M: Musical influences?

H: The Muppet Show. (laughs) People ask me that all the time, and that’s not even a snarky remark. That’s the dead honest truth. I watch a lot of Muppet Show. I like Jim Henson and a lot of the interludes—early Muppet Show, not Disney-I-just-bought-Jim-Henson. The real, 70’s show, it was Ralph the Dog to Electric Mayhem. Watching them perform, I know this sounds friggin’ weird, but it was off the hook!

M: Hell yeah, Dr. Teeth!

H: Hell yeah! (laughs). I just thought it was rare because it was really animated. I just thought it was cool that you had puppets in real-life situations. But, rap wise, real stuff, artists like De La Soul, Bush Babies, Pharcyde. Just any type of group that #1) I’d think, “I want to hang out with those dudes.” Just creative groups. I’ll never make a divide between underground and commercial rap because it all has its place and I like all of it. I’m a rap fan, I like all of it, you know? My personal favorite is Sean Price. Sean Price is probably—and M.O.P.—are the most violent rappers I can think of. But I’m like, “Dang, these dudes make shooting people sound like fun!” I don’t want to go do it, and I don’t want to be the recipient of a bullet, but they’re creative. So just genuinely creative artists. I mean I could go on for days: Redman, Boot Camp Clik. . .

M: Have you had any favorite shows?

H: My favorite show ever was in Puerto Rico. This was years ago, probably early ’07 or whatever. I did a show in Puerto Rico with a friend. It was a place called the Pool Bar; there was a really high stage and in the center was a pool. The pool was pretty big, and on the other side was cement and the bar; it was all outside. So, there were all these people that showed up and they were all enjoying it but there was only one dude in the pool; and the guy in the pool was loving it! Like, “That dude is clearly enjoying the pool!” I was thinking, “Man, when I finish my set, I’m going to jump in the pool with everybody and it’s going to be amazing!” But nobody else was in the pool! Why was nobody in the pool enjoying it? I mean, this guy was clearly enjoying it. I thought maybe he was a drunk dude, but he wasn’t drunk enough to be annoying. I do my set and I get really weird after a show, I just don’t want to be around people. So I go off to the side and he comes up to me. He doesn’t really speak any English, but I pretty understand what he’s saying. “Musica! Musica!” And he’s “thumbs-uping” me and making a gesture for a CD. So I give him one, and he wants me to sign it. Hell yeah! I’m in Puerto Rico signing autographs! But for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why nobody else was trying to talk to me. Like, “Damn, I just did a great show and he’s the only one telling me I did a good job.” No One! And nobody’s coming around him either. Finally, the guy who booked the show comes by me and whispers, “You alright?” And I was like, “Yeah, great! Me and this dude were just hanging out for a minute.” Turns out, that guy was a hired hand in the Rancoon Mafia and there were friends of people he killed in there. That dude was a certified killer!

M: At least he liked your music!

H: For real, I’m glad this dude’s on my side! After he left, my friend debriefed me and gave me the whole story. “People around here don’t really mess with that dude.” “Naw, I’m down with him!” (laughs) “Clearly he was my friend!”

M: You’re album, Neighborhood Kid, has a Brer Rabbit style dialogue throughout the whole thing. What made you want to do that?

H: That’s one of my favorite stories, #1. I really like that story and I’ve been compared to Brer Rabbit, a lot. In the sense that I move around a lot.

M: Getting into trouble then getting back out of it.

H: Pretty much! That’s pretty much, exactly it, know what I mean? Like, every time I’m in a certain position, or things get boiling hot I just get tired of it and it’s time to do something else. I go somewhere else where I don’t know nobody, you know? I just start over. But every time I go somewhere new, it’s always the same thing (laughs). Plus I felt it was right. When I left Wilmington, I had known so much of the town and a lot of people knew me. I’m not a saint, I have my troubles, you know? When I left, I just wanted to go somewhere and leave all of that, just forget about it. Came here, started fresh, but as soon as I got used to the place the same things started happening all over again! I was getting into the same trouble I was back then, so it seemed fitting.

M: And talking about trouble: the song, “Trouble,” is that loosely based on real life?

H: Everything on the album is based on real life, I just tend to be highly exaggerative. Is that a word? If not, I just coined it. In my head, even in the worse situations, it comes out like a cartoon. Like, “Oh man, that was fun.” But naw, it was based on a real life scenario. I dated a girl and she had a problem thieverin’, amongst other, past, no-goodness. (laughs) So yeah, it’s a real-life story, I just got creative with it. Clearly she wasn’t part Godzilla.

M: As soon as you put the album on, there’s humor. I mean, you take your music and your art seriously, but at the same time, you don’t take yourself too seriously. Like you said, it’s kind of cartoony and that makes it fun. I listen to it and think, “Dude, this guy is on top of his shit.”

H: It’s just because I don’t want to be miserable, you know? When I read something, I don’t want to be sad. When I listen to something I don’t want to be depressed. When I write something, especially, I don’t want to be feeling all somber and morose, crying myself to sleep. So whatever the situation is, I gotta make the best of it. If it didn’t kill me, I’m lucky. I write it down and make it into something entertaining.

M: Do you have anything else coming up in the works?

H: I want to do more personal songs. I don’t do a whole lot of personal songs, you know? I mean, I do, but then I mask them with some type of clever, humorous, exaggerated story. Usually every project I do will have that one “Here’s what I’m really like” song. “Fine, here you go, feel like we’re friends now?” And those are always the songs that people seem to love the most; they’re loving my pain! (laughs) But naw, there’s just a lot of real things I want to write about. I’m pushing old age and I’ve seen some real life experiences and I just want to do a lot less of the clever metaphors and just a straight, “Look this is it, I’m regular as hell” and that’s what I’m going to write on this record.

Stolen from Streetlight Records.

I like food. If you know anything about me…you know I like food. I’m down for food. I love it. I want to sex it. I love food so much, that sometimes it gets violent. I got that Ike and Tina love for food. I love food so much, that when it hurts me, I wanna beat the Proud-Mary-Keep-on-Rollin SH*T out of it! And then feed it cake. Eat the cake, Anna-Mae.

So, knowing that (I love food. Remember?), it should come as no surprise that having food named after me is an honor no less adulating than receiving an email from Jesus that reads:

Dear Haji, you my main man, son! Here’s a VIP pass to heaven. When you get to the gates, you aint even got to wait in the line…just walk straight past all them cornball motherfreakers and tell Peter that Jesus got you. Once you pass the gates, go to the front desk and ask the receptionist for the keys to Cloud 22P. Its in the financial  district. I made sure to give you the cloud next to Jim Henson and Michael Jackson. MY NIGGA DEAD!

It really is quite the gesture. Ask Doug Heffernan, he knows exactly what Im taumbout.

Anyway, to know that, for whatever reason, my mama-aint-name-me-dat moniker is as esteemed to put on meat thats going to go in your mouth…well…it kinda makes a brotha weep. Some rappers get Grammys, some rappers get groupies, some rappers get groupies pregnant…none of that for me..I got my name on some chicken!

We’ll get back to the racial implications of all of that later.

About the sandwich: Its a Carolina style BBQ chicken sandwich.Its delicious.

In closing, thank you, “The Red,” downtown Santa Cruz. Im honored.

Oh..PS…Whats the possibilities of nixing the fries for some buttery a** hushpuppies as the side dish?

On your next visit, order the me sandwich.

peas.

Sometimes I write raps. Sometimes I write blogs. Sometimes I write blogs about writing raps. Once, I even tried writing raps about writing blogs.  But, to date, I have never sometimes written a blog about writing raps that I went away to rap and couldnt wait to return and write a blog about. Until now.

Quack.

With that said…let me tell you ’bout this one time I (along with my fellow Rec League compadres) went to Texas.

Oh…and lets be real, when traveling to do shows, the actual performance is always bested by the antics pre and post performance. So, for the sake of things, lets just assume that all shows were packed beyond capacity …and there was hotwings and panty-drawz aplenty thrown all over the stage. Great show. Quack.

DAY 1:  CHAMPAGNE AND CUPCAKES

Aside from having to get to the airport in SF at Jesusdontevenmakethebirdschirpdatearly O’clock am…everything jumped off to a good start. Upon entering the terminal, we were greeted by a man and his table. The table didnt actually greet us. Just the man. The table was cool, tho. We approached in standard, affable, Rec Leaguean manner…“Yo, Airport Tableman, whassup witcha!?” Airport table man responded (also affably) with,  “Howdy doo guys, have some champagne  and cupcakes!”

WORD!? Champagne and cupcakes at Jesusdontevenmakethebirdschirpdatearly O’clock am? You know we did that! Airport Tableman then began to inform us that it was the grand opening of the Virgin Airlines terminal in SFO and that was the reason for celebration…I insisted otherwise. We politely quibbled until we both agreed it was in our honor. By the way, Virgin Airlines is some baller anus traveling. Neon purple lights, ambient music…its like flying in an aquarium. Ive never felt like a prettier mermaid.

*plane flies, plane lands*

We meet up with our hosts and co-rap consortium, Fab Deuce, head to Denton, TX and thoroughly prepared for our show in Dallas. And by thoroughly prepare, I mean…margaritas, fried ice cream and some rounds at the batting cages…followed by hours of lip syncing to Salt N Pepa and Dorrough songs. Its a proven fact that the combination of those particular things vastly improves one’s aptitude for mic rocking. Which is actually not a proven fact at all.

Mexicans really dont get enough credit for this dessert.

Before the show, the homie Matt P arranged a party bus for the team. Great idea for us. Not so dope for the driver…who was, presumably, a 54 year old white man with gigantism…who had the overwhelmingly amusing misfortune to be named “Scott.” Why so misfortunate? Because, on the hour ride back from Dallas to Denton, all he heard was “SCOTT, SCOTT, SCOTT, SCOTT, SCOTT…SCOTT, SCOTT, SCOTT, SCOTT, SCOTT, SCOTT….EVERYBODAAAAAAY! (repeat 128738294 times)” He loved it tho. I think he wanted to hump Matt.

DAY 2:  HOT TODDYS AND HELL SAUCE

The next day, after  the unparalleled success of the first performance, we went to  Denton TX’s “Roosters” to get fat celebrate. Roosters was definitely some next level dining. Mainly, because their menu made a mockery of absurdities like “veganism” and “health foods.” Im always down with that.  Even more impressive was the burger copped by DJ Somekinda Bad Spanish DJ. It was called “The Hell Burger, ”  cause the sauce was made from devils tears and volcano lava. Too intense for my blood. Son had to sign a waiver to eat it. Personally, Im not down with any food that wasnt made in Jesus house. Rock on, Steb. Rock on.

Per usual, I lost my voice the night before. Which, wouldnt be so bad if my voice would stay that low and gravely permanently…because, its inconceivably sexy. Wait? Is it bad if Im turned on by my own voice? No…I think that just validates its overt sexiness.  Anyway, point is…its not constant…so, it fluctuates between a cool-a** Batman to a delicate babys laugh…if the baby had apnea. Anti-sexy. I spent the entire day funneling lemon extract and stolen honey packs from Starbucks. Anti-sexy.

We cooled out and did things rapper guys do before a show. Then we did the show. It was both fascinating and incredible. Trust me. Quack.

After leaving the stage, sh*t got crazy. Things happened. Things I wont mention because Im certain my mom reads this blog. Yes, Im a grown man.

We figured after the bartender asked “Could you guys puhleeeease just leave already!” it was time to take our shenanigans elsewhere. Besides, all the chairs were stacked, lights were out, and nobody could figure out why we were still chanting “SCOTT!, SCOTT!, SCOTT!, SCOTT…SCOTT!, SCOTT!, SCOTT!, SCOTT!, SCOTT!, SCOTT….EVERYBODAAAAAAY!”

An after party followed. Why wouldnt it, though? If there was no after party, where else would I have gone to tell people that when I wasnt rapping, I was “Surgeoning”, or been held captive and forced to listen to some guy recite his numerous adventures in abortions shmashmortions, or…accidentally show up to the wrong house and be threatened with hate crimes. After the party, its the after party. Got dang right!

I’d love to say the night ended there…but then, I’d also love to say that I went home and had a threesome with both Tootie and Rudy. Nope, After the party its the after party, and…after the party its the IHOP.  Which, is just as good as Tootie, but not nearly as good as Rudy.

Who’s that ? The angelic young white woman in the collard shirt and business apron? Thats Brandi. Our IHOP servitor. Brandi’s a boss. Unlike her actual boss (who I’m convinced was Karl Winslow), Brandi was more than excited about Pudge doing the worm, Matt P  chugging maple syrups, and Burgla shouting rapid-fire rap one liners. Lines like ” Yo, where the pancakes, money on stove, we makin’ pan cake!” As good as that was, there was no line better than what Burgla said after the girls at the table next to us asked me for a hug….”Yo, its like 8 white guys at this table…and you wanna ask the black guy for a hug!? Thats bullsh*t!“

Burgla is super tight. EYYHHHHH!

DAY 3: QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!

As this was the most eventful of nights, I’ll try to be as concise in covering all activity. *Deep breath* Okay, so…

We (Rec League x Fab Deuce) made a new posse cut, called  Victory Laps Victor Relapse Vic DeRelapps currently untitled. Actually, I think we may have wrote/ recorded this on Day 2. Pfft, who can remember?

Q’M died. Well, at least the neighbors, cops and EMT’s thought he did.

Rob Rush became “Rob Africa.”

There was a story about somebody stealing a shotgun from somebodys house and shooting somebodys baby mama in the face.

Me, Richie, Maclane and Burgla went back to Roosters.  Maclane got busy on the Bloody Marys.

Some bald guy who looked like an aging David Cross in khakis and hiking shoes asked us about our vacation plans…but really, it was just his way of telling us we were going to Hell.

Me, Richie, and Burgla spoke in only Sean Price quotes for about two hours.

Pudge and Blaines mom hooked up a big anus pot of Chicken Sketti and (specially made for me)  green beans. Moms was a super boss. We all sat and had a family style dinner.

Party bus back to Dallas for show.

which brings us to the show…..

As expected, the show was nothing short of the miracle of watching unicorn birth. Except for the part where there was a fight. Fights, by nature, are exhaustingly brutish, and sure-shot funcrushers. To even expound on the details of the actual fisticuffs is enough to make me flaccid for the rest of the post.

*fast forwards to the good part*

…and then after the bouncers break it up, Steb (DJ BAD DJ) drops “Dont Worry, Be Happy!” Sh*t was hilarious, son! But nothing more hilarious then the mass group of people in our respective crews quacking the fight instigators out of the bar.

Quacking?

Yes. I said “Quacking.” If you can, imagine at least 28 people, in one huddled, forward traveling mass, barbarically chanting “QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! QUACK!….” Then, imagine, if you can, being the antagonist who has to go back to his homeboys and tell them “Yo, I was trying to fight these wack rappin’ a** muhfuggahs and then…them muhfuggahs started quacking at me!” It’s moments like that, that you just cant buy on Everybody Loves Raymond.

The party bus back was 31 flavors of unnecessarily bonkers, you shouldve seen what…wait…mom? Nevermind.

We went BACK to IHOP. Brandi was thrilled. Again. Karl Winslow was not. Again.

Sleep happened. Sorta.

DAY 4: WHERE WAS YOU WHEN WE GOT LOST IN THE CAR WITH PUDGE!?

The last day of the trip. Nothing much really happened. Except we did go to Babes Chicken. If you dont know ’bout it…get widdit. All you can eat mashed potatoes and biscuits, gawd! You’ont wanna miss out on that type of good eats. However, it may have been a bit much for Maclane…I think he may have had a heart attack. Son wasnt doing good after eating a 35lb country fried steak.

Texas knows exactly how to make people fat. Its like they went to Devry and studied “People Fat Gettin” …and then did independent studies at the University of Pheonix. Texans be eatin’.

Pudge got lost going to the airport….but, to be fair…Pudge got lost going to the airport.

*reminiscent sigh*

Texas never ceases to amaze me…I mean, last time I went (’07), this happened.

See you next go ’round.

Quack. 

When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time in detention and being on punishment. Needless to say, the two kinda go hand in hand. Anyway, as with any disenfranchised member of society, my time spent in incarceration led me to discover a penchant for writing. I couldn’t remember how many stories I’ve written total, but some of the more famed titles include: The One Black Hunchback, My Name is Stupid, and Adams Apology to Jesus (a story told from Adams perspective, in letter form, explaining how Eve forced him to eat the apple, and as punishment, Jesus should make women bare children in the most painful way possible).  However, no work more successful than a self-help book I wrote in the seventh grade called, The Things We Do: My Guide to Making Your Life Better. It was roughly 20 pages of hand written/hand drawn literary gold. I made copies and sold it for $1 to all my moms friends, all the faculty and staff at my school, my soccer coaches and anybody I thought had a dollar to spend. I was beyond certain that book would make it into book stores the world over. Well…it didn’t. But my freakin’ bummy anus rap album did! Neighborhood Kid, now available at Barnes & Nobles Bookstores!

Noble employee, John, hookin’ it up at the first B&N store to carry the album, in Fayettville, NC. Next stop, the world! And then…maybe Vermont.

Man, this year has been pretty busy for Rec League. In December, we dropped Season 2. In January, Richie Cunning dropped Night Train. In February, I released Neighborhood Kid…and this month, Qm submitted his solo album,  Happy Hour. And thats to say nothing of the albums previously (and futuristically) put out by Grip Grand, Proe and Rob Rush. Gee wiz. What to do now? What to do…what…to…do?  All these great albums, and a live performance that ranks slightly below Michael Jacksons in Motown 25. Hmmm…what to do, what to do? I suppose we’d be some real cads if we didn’t share this miracle with the world, huh? Yeah. You’re probably right. But, the world is kinda big, so we’ll just keep it on the west coast for right now.

No Time Outs!

show dates listed over there —->

(yeah. there. where i usually put the show dates. dont act like you aint never been here befo’!)