Whippin My Mama Volvo

We got two volvo wagons in our driveway, so I figured I'd throw this one up. The video is shot in Ballard - a pretty white, middle class neighborhood in Seattle that Grynch and myself live in. Dude is actually a pretty-well established rapper in the Seattle, especially for a dude who looks 14 years old. He's made a name for himself by completely embracing the fact that he's a really average white guy who raps and doesn't bullshit on his verses. Thankfully, Grynch lacks that malady that seems to plague a vast majority of underground rappers, causing them to rap about richer rappers, why hip hop is dead, and why they should get a record deal instead of actually fucking saying anything. Whether or not you like the song, think it's corny or funny or dope, (and I can't even make up my mind myself) take a minute to respect the fact that this man honestly earnestly loves his fucking Volvo. There's no irony involved in this shit. Whether you like or not, it's real, and that's why you have a lot of people in the Seattle hip-hop community who are from completely different (i.e. ethnically diverse, poor, South-end) backgrounds than Grynch showing him respect. Plus the video looks good for a low-budget affair.

Along Came A Spider

Director/actor/stuntman Nash Edgerton's new movie The Square is getting love from the film blogs I've read. I haven't seen the thing so I can't endorse it but I DO endorse this short he made. It's only nine minutes of your time, so take a look:

The Next Masterpiece of American Culture

I wish I could put into words how fascinated/disgusted I am with this idea. Essentially, a normal dude diligently eats his way through the frozen food aisle, making sure he sticks to the highest possible standards of journalism. I bring you Freezer Burns

Lax On, Lax Off

Gentlemen, practice is tonight @ 8pm on the turf field.  Brose bowl is back.

Also, I would like to pay tribute to a fallen teammate, friend, and fellow alcoholic Justin "Bromaster". At rugby practice yesterday Justin broke his tibia, some other bone, and tore 3 ligaments in his ankle.  He is due to go into surgery around now, and we wish him a quick and complete recovery from this tragic laxident.  Obviously he won't be playing for the rest of the season.  Let's stay after it, so we may say that he did not lax in vain, but for a more noble cause, the defense of our 5th amendment right, "the right to remain violent" on the field and our 3rd amendment right, "the right to show arms" on the hill.

God Bless America and no place else.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gentlemen, one of the most difficult tasks facing a laxer is the choice of a Sunday morning spoon. Yes, on and off the field you are always expected to carry yourself with a certain swagger. Yes, even if you can't catch and pass you still might get some undeserved lax cred for selecting from a portfolio of neons.  But certain colors, like neon green mesh with purple shooting strings, might just be the feather that broke your hangover's back when you are reminded of all the green jello shots and purple haze you smoked last night.  In fact, I dare say I recommend the old school approach to the Sunday morning spoon... possibly a full wood stick with a traditional pocket.  Who are you kidding, you probably won't be able to catch and pass in between spews,  so you might as well fuck up someone else's day with 10 pounds of American history.

Anyways, Freeman Center at noon.  Bring your jersey if you walked off with it after the game.

Love,

Gary