K.Banks |
CAM’RON, who’s remained largely reclusive since the failure of his 2007 beef campaign against 50 CENT, has sold off his one remaining asset: the recording contract of his amusing retardate protégé, JUELZ SANTANA. Juelz, known for his distinctive bandana fashions and his trademarked rhyming-words-with-themselves-five-times flow, had a Top 10 hit in 2005 with “There It Go (The Whistle Song),” for which he should only drop dead. Cam’ron managed to get a cool $2 million by selling his old friend down the river (to Def Jam), which ought to be enough to keep him brooding in his estate for a couple more years. After that, expect to see a lot of purple fur coats flooding the garage-sale market.
For demonstration purposes, a representative Santana rhyme: “You be like, ’damn, that’s one nice ass rapper/I kinda like that rapper, want to be like that rapper.’”
DMX, who in recent months has been arrested approximately twice a day, dazzled onlookers with an impromptu freestyle outside the Phoenix courthouse where he had just pled not guilty to whatever the hell he did this time. “If and when you ever fall down, get back up/Drop something, stop fretting, pick that shit back up/Stand for something or fall for everything, wait for the right pitch or miss with every swing.” Great time to toss us some nuggets of wisdom, DMX. Keep these little life lessons coming, ’cause nothing gets me all pumped to succeed like the inspiring words of a broke dude with a house full of dog corpses.
Former boy-band mogul LOU PEARLMAN — now serving a 25-year prison sentence for screwing investors out of hundreds of millions of dollars with various endeavors of extreme bogusness — made news this week by snitching on an alleged cop killer. Pearlman claims that after hearing the 19-year-old Davin Smith boasting of the murder to fellow inmates, he struck up a little investigation, gaining the boy’s confidence after a chance meeting in the prison showers and extracting details of the crime, which he promptly turned over to the police. Pearlman hopes that his sleuthing and snitching will reduce his prison sentence. After all this publicity, I think he can definitely expect a dramatic reduction in his not-getting-stabbed-in-the-shower hitch.
In a rather disappointing move, BARACK OBAMA’s camp has condemned LUDACRIS for the ribaldry of his recent pro-Obama mixtape track. Campaign spokesman Bill Burton, desperate to make white people forget that Obama met privately with Luda in 2006 to talk about “empowering the youth,” trotted out the same old rapophobia: “Rap lyrics today too often perpetuate misogyny, materialism, and degrading images that he [Obama] doesn’t want his daughters or any children exposed to. . . . While Ludacris is a talented individual he should be ashamed of these lyrics.”
The lyrics, which really aren’t that bad, did nothing more severe than calling Hillary Clinton a bitch, wishing John McCain ill, and accusing President Bush of being mentally handicapped. In which case, shouldn’t we all be ashamed?
R. KELLY’s new album has leaked, but the occasion has been emptied of all joy — now that a jury of his peers has acquitted him of his alleged pee-related indulgences, can we in good conscience continue to indulge in the obvious “R. Kelly leaking” jokes? Or are we forced, like common criminals, to come up with original, non-obvious jokes, perhaps even jokes worthy of being printed in a prestigious weekly newspaper? No! I’m a man of principles, and I won’t stand for it.
MORRISSEY’s new album, titled Years of Refusal, has been pushed back until 2009. This puts me and other Morrissey fans in an awkward position: do we cry now because of the delay or save it up till next year and cry when we hear the record?
As if KEANE didn’t already have every reason to be petrified with humiliation over their very existence, check out the remarkable purpleness of this recent post on their official Web site:
We started out in Paris, where Jon Brion inspired us to create first and think later.
We took the night train to Berlin, where everything came together in an avalanche of experimentation that took us all by surprise; where we made a pact with Stuart Price to ignore the rules of good taste; where we were hypnotised by Marlene Dietrich and spent many a long night throwing ideas around in the crumbling Cabaretesque glamour of our favourite bar.
Are you fucking kidding me, guys?
Police pulled over SNOOP DOGG’s tour bus and — gasp! — smelled marijuana! Two men (neither of them Snoop) were arrested on suspicion of possessing the dangerous chemical intoxicant, and I’m sure Snoop was severely rattled by the revelation that members of his entourage were “drugs” junkies!
