Title Not Needed, by Rosicky Jones

I have to warn you, I had no idea where I was going when I started typing; and instead of streamlining this for you I will just gift you with a schizophrenic post for the holidays.  Why not, I go schitzo day to day during this time of year, so why shouldn’t my writing follow suit.

If you considered yourself a Beatles fan, and sincerely waited until iTunes gained library access for their music, then you are not a fan and you are not as tech savvy as you think.  The Beatles have been on torrents and peer to peer sites for years.  I own Yellow Submarine, not because I like it, but because it’s free.

I have yet to make up my mind on Julian Assange.  On one hand I love the tribune of the plebs Michael Moore and hold his opinion in high regard; but on the other hand, I would constantly check for my wallet and for stolen silverware if Assange ever came over to my place.  And I know that being able to trust a guy in your house is not an indefectible method of arriving at a judgment, but it kind of is.

When eating crackers do you ever spit out some of the chewed up cracker cud and spread it between two other crackers creating a disgusting cracker sandwich?

It is not sexist to not care about UConn’s women’s basketball team.  It is also not sexist to think it is sexist for them to claim with supreme confidence that their record surpasses UCLA’s record.  I mean job well done and all that but let’s tone it down a bit.  When my brothers were younger I beat them in 1 on 1 at least one-hundred times in a row, maybe I should pin that next to John Wooden’s accomplishments.

Seriously, why did the AIDS cure get so little attention?  Why Jeebus, why!

Why do criminals on the brink of death select a succulent last meal?  Why not ask for a spoiled, infested, Rachel Ray inspired creation.  I have wished for death after many a bad meal.  And if I had the misfortune of killing a muthafucka because he stepped on my fresh pair of Jordans and got high on a buffalo instead of stepping down… If I had to kill a muthafucka because he mistook my kindness for weakness and looked at me for longer than three seconds and didn’t back the fuck up when he got smacked the fuck up… If I had to… err, hold on, I just bought the new TI album and it’s skipping.  Well, we can deal with that urban poetry later.  If I had to choose a last meal I would pick a meal so devoid of flavor, so unpalatable that upon listless completion a lethal injection would not just be welcomed, it would be begged for.  But what do I know.

Oh yeah, there is something I do know, and that my friends is hip hop, the music not the physical act of carrying out small jumps to and fro.  As a hip hop aficionado I have come across MCs that are not just dreadful but compel the listener to feel embarrassment for them.  Birdman is one of these MCs.  He’s always rapping about platinum football fields and iced out zeppelins flying through diamond encrusted clouds.  I get that he has some coin, but none of the shit he says is realistic, not the same way a time machine is unrealistic or say Palin’s IQ topping 85 is unrealistic; but unrealistic financially speaking.  A platinum football field is a dream very few men can realize; this is why my lovely friend Phil thinks Bill Gates should release an album.  Bill can do a lot of the things Birdman brags about being able to do.  Bill rapping would put a stop to all the over the top codeine laced diatribes of one Birdman Finkelstein (yeah who knew Birdman’s last name was Finkelstein).  Let’s take a look a Finkelstein’s verse from #1 Stunna.

And that Mercedes Wagon, with the kit, that’s kitted out
look like it got frog eyes
That bitch on dubs
And I got that Benz that me and my dog bought for our bitches
We got this shit here on dubs
We all drive Bentleys on dubs
I’m tryin’ to put platinum eyebrows on these hoes
I just bought me a platinum football field, ni**a
Ya understand?

I understand everything this guy is talking about, but his horrible delivery and his failure to grasp reality leaves me a bit empty.  If he were able to deliver on these promises I may overlook the fact that he knows maybe 50 words in the English language and just uses them over and over in his rhymes.  This is why Bill Gates should drop 16 bars on these bitches.  If he rapped about platinum islands, babies, even platinum covered platinum toothpicks that he uses to mine for gold dust between his teeth; he would be still more believable and realistic than Birdman’s hooks.

I can’t differentiate between Starburst flavors, they all taste the same.  Maybe my taste buds are broken, or the gooey texture of Starbursts masks the flavor for me.  What if lima beans were gummy, would I then love them?  I need an assistant that I can assign to fruitless tasks like gummifying lima beans.

Dear Paul Shirley;

I need an assistant.  Please.

Sincerely,

Muaz

It would be funny if once everyone found out Santa was fake they started mailing their hopes and dreams to Paul Shirley instead.  It would also be really funny to read Paul’s responses to the letters.  I really want this to happen.  I feel like Matt Shirley has the means to make this a reality, so here’s to Matt accomplishing what I cannot.

I hate listening to sports color commentators that don’t add to the game.  “Lebron dunks easily because he is tall.”  Give me info that I don’t know.  “Lebron with a dunk, and all the credit goes to Chris Bosh on that one, he knew that his defender would try and trap the screen and blah blah blippity bloo blah”  Get it!  And this is another reason why I am not sold on Assange yet.  Really Berlusconi is “ feckless, vain, and ineffective as a modern leader,” well no shit, this is the same guy that said Obama had a “great tan” and throws orgies with under-aged girls.  I need good shit Assange, drop some Kennedy on a brotha, something about aliens, or anything on the size of Barbara Bush’s penis.  But until then, you are more Jon Gruden than John… John… dammit, this would have been way more dramatic had I come up with a competent guy named John.

Woop, I got it, Jon Stewart, or Daly, or Lennon.  I love the internet; there is literally a site dedicated to highlighting great “Johns” throughout history.  www.Johnnyonthespot.com

Probably should have gone with John Locke there eh?

My Obama fears are growing.  I am getting really scared that he may be a one-term Presi.  The only positive is hopefully we amend the two-term limitation and let Slick Willy run.  But that is not going to happen, so the only realistic positive is that an Obama movie may be closer than you think.  As long as Oliver Stone is alive I guarantee a movie chronicling the last election, it will probably be called “O,” well unless James Cameron gets involved and makes it a 3-D spectacle entitled “Black-Vatar.”

Up until the last Oscar ceremony I thought James Cameron and Cameron Crowe was the same guy.  I swear to god.  The Almost Famous affiliation had me arbitrarily rooting for Avatar even though I had never watched it, and once the error of my ways was rectified I was off the Avatar bandwagon.  I instead began rooting for another movie I intend to never watch, The Hurt Locker.

The Hurt Locker also doubles as the nickname for my ex-girlfriend’s vagina, hi-yoooo!

Anyways, let’s play “Who plays them in a movie”

Barack Obama: Harper Hill

Now we could go with the obvious Denzel or Will Smith casting decisions, but since Barack was a virtual unknown who wowed a nation I felt we needed a virtual unknown actor who will immerse himself into this role. Harper Hill is Obama’s doppelganger and he is an accomplished actor. Think Jamie Foxx pre-Ray. Why not have an intelligent man-Hill, who graduated magna cum laude from Brown University play Mr. President.

Michelle Obama: Meryl Streep

If Meryl Streep is the greatest actress of all time, then playing an African-American first lady would be the proper career capstone.  I’ve always wanted Streep to play Harriett Tubman or George Washington Carver, but Al Sharpton’s head would probably explode.

Hillary Clinton: Jodie Foster

On the doppelganger scale they are much closer than you and your supposed celebrity doppelganger are… brown hair and a big butt does not mean you are a Kim Kardashian clone Jackie Hernandez!  Sorry about the tangent, but this pairing works, no?

Bill Clinton: Sean Penn

Sean Penn played a hippie stoner in “Fast Times at Ridgemont High,” and Clinton was a hippie stoner- in real life. I smell Oscar…

Chelsea Clinton: Lindsay Lohan

Lindsay Lohan will juxtapose her indiscriminate lifestyle with that of the humble and chaste Chelsea Clinton.  Hollywood loves it when actors play a role completely against character so this may re-ignite Lindsay’s flickering career.  If it doesn’t then it is one step closer to a Lindsay Lohan sex tape, which is not as exciting now as it would have been four years ago.

John McCain: Gollum

This one was obviously a stretch, as I had trouble finding an actor who both resembled McCain’s visage and his homophobia.  Ironically enough Gollum even changed his stance on DADT last week, come on McCain it’s over.

Jon Edwards: Zach Braff

Yeah yoooo!

These Two Guys

I ran out of people, and these two guys look a lot alike.

I’m tired, goodnight, and Merry Christmas.