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netscapeshawty:

Pretty flacco

netscapeshawty:

Pretty flacco

me: feel like some stuck-in-90’s-rap-guy ire is rooted in secretly hating young black people making money

Elana: haha

me: like they don’t like the music so what is stopping them from being annoyed by it?

Elana: feel like rap music is more populist now

Also

feel like a lot of ppl like to feel ‘smart’

or something

so

me: yeah that

they’re like “these black people are dumber”

that’s definitely a thing

Elana: yeah

Like

only listen to the roots

or de la soul

white ppl are boring

me: yes

big words rap

hey guess what

rap isn’t just for talking about shooting people, guys

you can talk about smart people stuff

not just stuff black people I’m afraid of can relate to

Elana: i only listen to rappers who talk about mdma

that’s my new rule

me: hahaha

Elana: do u mention molly on yr album

No?

not interested

me: so trinidad james mostly

Elana: um

molly water

me: lil wayne

Elana: chief keef

Gucci

Future

me: yeah

Elana: rick ross

Yes

that’s it

me: rick ross on molly

touchin’ stuff

Xmas gifts

Since most people I know don’t read my tumblr, I can list most of the gifts I got people here and maybe get a pat on the back for being so generous:

Mom: Ralph Lauren earrings, fancy chocolate bars, Jordan almonds

Dad: plaid Ralph Lauren shirt

Step-mom: Macy’s gift card, fancy chocolate bar

Brother Reed: brass mustache comb/bottle opener, fancy choc bars

Brother Will: Native American print hat, ridiculous Ravens shirt

Brother Alex: Native American print flannel, fancy choc bar

Boss Amar: 30 dollar Attwater’s gift card

Assorted friend gifts: fancy bourbon, various comics/graphic novels, a Ravens ticket, other things…

I’m a very giving person. Honestly I just hope I get money to recoup some of this.

whattheylistento:

1. The Ditty Bops
2. Nellie McKay
3. The Format
4. Anything by Leroy Anderson
5. Obviously not David Heatley because she has his book right there on the floor where it doesn’t belong because my copy is on my shelf. GOD THIS BOOK IS AWESOME
Guest Guessed by: http://boywondernate.tumblr.com/

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/89/Parmigianino_003b.jpg/250px-Parmigianino_003b.jpg

whattheylistento:

1. The Ditty Bops

2. Nellie McKay

3. The Format

4. Anything by Leroy Anderson

5. Obviously not David Heatley because she has his book right there on the floor where it doesn’t belong because my copy is on my shelf. GOD THIS BOOK IS AWESOME

Guest Guessed by: http://boywondernate.tumblr.com/

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/89/Parmigianino_003b.jpg/250px-Parmigianino_003b.jpg

Cheat Days, week of 10/15

Hello, gentle reader. I’m writing this to document my continuing saga of my weight loss/cheat days. Last Friday, I weighed in at a little under 216 pounds (Don’t remember how much I weighed the Friday before, but I’d lost ten pounds or more overall.), and the next day, I had another cheat day. Here’s what’s up:

- Breakfast: went to Brooklyn Water Bagels in Pikesville, because coffee ice cubes, yo! Had a poppy seed with butter and a couple refills of iced coffee, which you can put all kinds of shit in. On the way there I stopped at a 7/11 and got a donut and an energy drink, because who’s going to stop me?

- Lunch: on my way back from the bagel place, I made a few stops: Normals Bookstore, Atomic Books, and the Wine Source. At the Wine Source I got a bottle of relatively cheap sake and drank it at home while grilling a ribeye. Then I went to Chicken Rico in Highlandtown and got some fried yuca, served with cilantro sauce and that weird yellow mayonnaise I can’t get enough of.

- Dinner: I went to that cafe in Bolton Hill and got a weird pile of corn cakes, shredded pork, and Mexican food condiments. Pretty whatever. Later I had a sweet tea and a Mountain Dew throwback. And later I had four meh hard ciders from a 6 pack of the stuff. I had wanted some Coldstone, but I plum forgot about it.

Kind of a shitty cheat day. After the yuca fries, I stopped being very selective. I think the next one I’ll be doing on Sunday, game day. This may involve:

- breakfast at Woodberry Kitchen

- beer

- that yogurt place on Charles where you weigh the yogurt

- pizza

Cheat Days

I don’t post a hell of a lot on this blog, but from now on I’m going to post a bunch of diet-related stuff, most avidly a record of my cheat days. Cheat days are the days (typically Saturday or Sunday) where I break my diet (no carbs, no dairy, only lean meat)/eat a shit load, often gaining back a large percentage of the weight I lost during the weak. Most days I eat 1200 calories, so by the time the weekend rolls around, I’m salivating and dreaming of food every time my attention wanders. So here’s a record of my last cheat day (Sunday, game day) and some thoughts on what I’ll do this coming Saturday.

10/7:

Breakfast at Morning Addition (best, most hidden breakfast spot in Baltimore; they use a gas stove with only four burners and feature “Vermont-style” breakfast): biscuits and gravy, melon and grapes, mimosa, coffee with cream and sugar, portion of banana bread while I was waiting

Lunch at the Fells Point Festival (spent like a total of five minutes at this place, despite it being right outside by door) - plantains, papusa, what looked like 8 pieces of bacon stuck together

Dinner at this carry-out next door to me - (gross) cheese steak, onion rings (stick to cheap Indian food, guys)

This whole time? Drank 11 Dogfish Head Raison D’Etre’s (too much)

And on 10/13, this coming Saturday? Going to take myself to Pikesville to get Brooklyn Water Bagel (Coffee ice cubes, anyone?). Maybe I’ll get something from a deli there for lunch. Test the pizza market? Suggestions?

About as racist as actual Apu is racist.
superpunch2:

Matt Groening.

About as racist as actual Apu is racist.

superpunch2:

Matt Groening.

This was the most recent comment for the Bjork video on youtube:

In God We Rust (a poem by Brighton DeChienne) In. In God. In God we. In God we rust. In God we rust, alas I trust. It is a fact, don’t make a fuss. We act as though all thought is matter. I do opine t’is but mad patter. “There no room for choice?”, I say. You turn and walk a thousand ways. You sit, I stand (on your hand). There’s no escaping the laws of man. You cry, I shrug, then give a tug… on the penis of your mind, shaggy as rug. “Who? But I?” the drunkard need say! I is you and fall away.