By the time you read this, I may already be throwing back Bud Lights with my pal Pitbull in the sporting goods aisle of the Kodiak, Alaska, Walmart. Although the "Exile Pitbull" affair has been a smashing success so far, there's one thing I have to clear up. I pride myself on my total dedication to truth and fairness, so it's with deep regret that I make this admission: a few weeks ago, I allowed a heinous error to slip into my column.
I quoted a former resident of Kodiak, who told me this: "I hear they just recently opened a Taco Bell. People were pissed because it replaced a KFC." In my haste to rush the story to print, I didn't properly vet my source, and it turns out this information was false. A whistleblower named "Actual Kodiak Resident"— presumably an actual Kodiak resident — commented on the article and told a different story: "The Taco Bell didn't replace the KFC. There's a KFC/Taco Bell combo place. Nobody's upset about it."
I apologize unreservedly to the people of Kodiak and to the Kodiak Taco Bell/KFC. I also apologize to my editors, who I bullied into printing my lies, and to the Phoenix fact-checking staff, whose repeated late-night phone calls I shouted down in my journalistic hubris. Most of all, I apologize to Pitbull, a decent man whose good name should never be proximal to falsehood.
In time, I hope I can rebuild the sacred . . . wait, I have to tell you about some cool butt stuff:
The writer/producers of an upcoming Off-Broadway musical called Ready 2 Die, about the life and times of rapper Biggie Smalls, were busted last week after running off with armloads of books from a Connecticut Barnes & Noble. The stolen books included nine sets of the titillating Fifty Shades of Grey series and three copies of R. Kelly's Soulacoaster; police quickly grabbed the two suspects and soon found the merchandise in the back of a nearby Jaguar. The producers denied owning the Jaguar; when they were hauled off to the station, one of the suspects admitted that the other man had hidden the Jaguar's key in what is medically known as the butt canal.
Officers scanned the dude's butt area with a metal detector, which rung a telltale beep; they retrieved the key from the butt and successfully started the car. (Hey, wasn't that a scene in Fifty Shades of Grey?)
Despite the Ready 2 Die Web site hosting a photo of one producer standing with the Notorious B.I.G.'s mother, the rapper's estate says the two men are frauds: "Our firm has previously sent a cease and desist notice," a representative told allhiphop.com. "Any association with the Estate of Christopher Wallace or Notorious B.I.G. are unauthorized."
In other news: boutique liquor is obligatory for hip-hop heavyweights. Pharrell has Qream, Puffy has Ciroc, and Lil Wayne has Drake's Bubbly Tears of Fame Ennui. Now, superstar producer Timbaland enters the crowded field with Le Sutra, a very masculine sparkling liqueur that comes in a variety of fruity flavors, all of which look like fancy shampoos. I was very tickled by Timbaland's supremely confident tone in the Le Sutra press release: