Hip Hop Anonymous & The Rock Show
I’ve been to a lotta shows in my day, from Bruce Springsteen to KoRn to Mr. Scribble. I went to my first show long before the first hair sprouted out of my ass, I saw KISS when I was the tender age of eight at the Oakland Arena. 9 years later I returned, this time sportin a hot young female by my side and seeing the Foo, The Weez, & the Heat. We were seated close enough for me to throw my bra at Rivers of Weezer, lucky for him I was free-boobin it. Hot Hot Heat opened, and I gotta say, I don’t normally listen to them but I think they converted me, that curly haired singer has got spunk. I came for Weezer, I left loving what I came for; Weezer kicks the shit out of shit, and the six male strippers only made them rule more. Rivers belting out the beginning of “Say it Isn’t So” damn near floored me, Eebs and I have always been been in agreeance that that is the perfect song. I did enjoy when there were 3 weezer men on drums. Good ol Dave pretended to do be a guitar savvy member of the audience volunteering his abilities to play “The Sweater Song” by Weezer, whipped his hood off and rocked it with rivers, oh weezer how much ass kicketh thou? Foo Fighters took over keeping the flame burnin Dave killin his axe and banged his head very hard.
Ya’ll crackers and honkeys like the angry rap music? Booty shakin beats? Her humps? Her lovely lady lumps? If you do, I can’t imagine you would care for our schools hip hop club, composed of the elite freestylers, the flowers, the poets, and the hip-hoppers. If your into some of the greats like San Juan – straight out of madtown, Raul – the prolific poet lacing his insight with complex rhymes, Delee – the cracker, and the Incredible Fejj – the self proclaimed “Jeffrey, sicker than leprosy don’t step to me or you’ll get dropped like ectasy.” Basically what we’ve got here is hip hop to the ears, and you it beats thizzin anyday. Even the Wannabe westsiders from the east side get off on it. I filmed the first flow session during lunch period and this is the product, download it if you know whats good for you, if it doesn’t play download this first
On top of everything else, me, Pinky and Randy got together for a latenight run the other night, I gotta say I’ve missed those sonsa bitches and I know you bitches have too. We blew up this little missle shooter firework thing in the college parking lot, it tipped over upon ignition and shot tiny little firework projectiles at us as we scurried into Randy’s mom’s minivan and sped off. Badass.
Party tonight. Rock and roll everyday.
– Racial Slur Database
– Super cool costumes!
– This I don’t understand
– Jello SF
Not Down With HMB
I am not a hateful man, nor am I a one of prejudice, however, I can say without the slightest reservation; I don’t care so much for Half Moon Bay, California. It’s not the pumpkin festivals I don’t like, it’s not that the entire town smells a little bit like fish to me, it’s certainly not the scenery, for Half Moon Bay boasts some beautiful views. I could give two shits for HMB solely because of the entire teenage population that inhabits the Half Crack Basin. You see, it all spawned from a houseparty some time back. Us San Mateo’ians were havin ourselves a fine ol time before Captain Redneck and the barnyard bunch arrived chins bulging with the spittin tobac-ee. I switched into gentlemen mode greeting this alien party-goers with a formal head gesture signifying a “How-do-you-do” it was met with a quick and rather vulgar retort of “Whatever fag.” Before jumbo could empty out his cheek load I was surrounded by pitch-work wielding Half Mooners…Now looking back…I think that not trying to fight was indeed the best decision, if I were brut enough to knock a few pins down I still got the Cletus and his brother to watch out knaw mean? Plus our Russian friend Smirnoff might have played a role in the entire situation. The matter stands. So anyway I bring that up because the other day Joe, Ben & I headed over into enemy territory to look at a automobile canidate for Joe. After sitting in traffic for half an hour because of god damn pumpkin festival we took a gander at the car hopeful, check out the bangin 6 cylinder beast with a family of rats or birds chillin near the nozzle doo-dad and how bout the luxurious interior, too bad for the poor hobo that took a shit and died in it. Good ol Half Moon Bay
On some lighter notes, howza boot some new school shots like showin us how its done, the gals, the pals, the porno stars and the crazy punjabi from Pakistan throwin up Allah knows what.
I listen to Mike Jones, I know who he is, why does he keep giving his phone number out? Mike Jones is lonely.
My shoulder hurts and I am in dire need of some PCP or somethin to alleviate my agony and give me the performing edge over my peers.
– *** The New Photo Gallery Kicks Ass ***
– *** The New Babes Section Is Online ***
– *** New Tracks Added to Radio ***
– NES Micro
– Shark VS Octopus
– Backwards Songs
– Big Stupid Boobs
– The MySpace Hacker
The Shit Dog
Errybody loves Tina right? The bumbling, lovable, deaf, dumb and blind pooch that feeds off the chicken fat and beef lard I sneak in her bowl. Well…Dumb story told: the lil plumper was pinchin her morning loaf on the lawn, followed by her obligatory A-town stomp and dig to throw some grass on her masterpiece as all dogs to. Anyway, she than proceeded to hop in the car, and upon my lap to the schoolward bound morning journey. Five minutes in my nasal cavities catch wind of something foul in the air. A raw, pungent, aroma emanating from that hippo herself. The car was stopped to carry out a closer inspection of the stench. Upon further inspection I noticed to very definite paw prints on my short pants filled and outlined in dark brown, very textured fecal matter. Dog shit. It would seem that the lil turd burgler, in her old, senile age neglected to watch out for her own poo as she was trying to bury it in the many blades of grass that carpet the church lawn. So thats my embarassing story for the day. Love it.
As for my other, far less interest chapter in the greatest story ever told…My computer is still, as my momma would say “shitted up.” My re-conversion to Linux is one that will be shortlived, due to compatibility issues with my processor, the kernel freaks out and the whole system locks up and I am forced to use my moms craptop to post this poop of a post. I figure I’ll jus scrap my box, sell it on craigslist and start anew like I said.
Adhering to the whole “start anew” thing, I have made a resolution to totally revamp the site once I build a new computer. The new version of NBHQ should be predominantly composed of Cascading Style Sheets as opposed to the outdated tabular format that I’ve been using since day one.
What this means to you the viewer :
- – Hella faster load times
– Prettier
– Less strain on slower computers
– Tell Stewie What To Do
– Artist on Acid
– Phoenomenal guitar player, playing double-neck acoustic guitar
– Black Panther Coloring Book
It’s So DAMN Hot! & I Saw Green Day
Oh for the love of jeez! It’s so hot my balls are stickin to my knees! Good thing Green Day was off the sheez, for reez. It’s true, thanks to my main mayonaise Ebert, for hooking it up with two tickets for me and my swell gal pal to a attend a marvelous rock and/or roll concierto. The lineup included Jimmy Eat World & Floggin Molly, and there was fire too and fireworks. We drank beers. The show got out around midnight, and we headed over to Ian’s abode, free from parental supervision, with plenty of those kettle chips handy, salt & pepper is what I like. Colin Crawford plucked his 4-string with a blistering vengeance *you can bet that pun was intentional*, Eebs played that 6-string and took us all to Funkytown, Ian…hit drums with drumsticks. Good times. Lame Post.
My computer is proper fucked. My installation of Windows XP Pro that lasted me more than a year finally kicked the bucket, all hail the mighty Microsoft. Anyway, I’ll be rockin the Mandriva Linux till I sell the box all together and start afresh.
Nick Brady (me) is officially employed and has been deemed the title of IT guy @ Network Artist, a computer networking company in Redwood City, and it pays way more than your mom.
No links today…Bah humbug bitches. The next post will kick the asshole of this one.