February 26, 2009

Celebrity Posters II: JOE BUDDEN - "I Dunk On Lil' Kidz." IN STORES NOW!

Okay, no, I Dunk On Adolescents!, that's not the title.  It's actually Padded Room, and it's rhyme-spitter Joe Budden's first studio-release album in about half a decade. If the fully-wrapped Lincoln Navigators patrolling my 'hood by the otherwise-underemployed are to be believed, it's IN STORES NOW!  Don't snap your own ankles, now, slow your roll... you can at least finish the blog before taking off for "da Store," as I think they won't run out of CDs.

Harlem-born and Jersey-bred, Joe Budden was once a blue-chip hoops prospect in his prep school years, and pops up at celebrity basketball events pretty often, either to play or perform.  In his first (and last, 'til now) major album, JB's "Pump It Up" became a certified anthem for the streetball courts...

...and with hits chock-full of such inspirational lyrics as...

Hold up she want work that twork that
Then again let me hurt that murk that
Til you gotta hurt back
Can't spit it out, boo you gotta slurp that
Can't cuddle after we done, it wasn't worth that
Joey I'm responsible for bringin Jersey back (And we bad huh)
She at the bar stylin' she throwing it up
She drink a little hypno, throwing it up
But I'm only dealing with freaks that wanna cut
Ma if you agree I want nut
Camcorder, get it played late night on BET Uncut (uhh)

...somebody thought it would be a brilliant idea to promote his newest album before some needy children, perhaps playing a little friendly game of hoops.

Oh, snap.  Did I say something about friendly?

Joe took time out from promoting his album in Orlando's Parramore 'hood (Note to travelers: You will NOT find Mickey there. Or Shamu. Let's just leave it there, shall we?) to visit an youth center furnished with a halfcourt hoop out back.

Whether he offered any advice to the young heads as to the virtues of "spittin' it out and slurpin' that" is still in question.  What's NOT in question is his eagerness to take at-risk adolescents repeatedly to the hole... and bury them in it.

These poor kids from Central Florida's Tragic Kingdom had more than enough to deal with.  Crime. Drugs. Abuse. Poverty.  Now, tack on lil' girls with broken ankles, boys having their shots swatted clear to Kissimmee, and kids getting smashed on left and right, hoop dreamz all shattered, all thanks to some once-aspiring ex-baller whose album just dropped and is IN STORES NOW! (see the trucks?)  He's got these kids looking for "Padded Rooms" and "Halfway Houses" of their own, now.

To be fair, though, one girl did manage to drain a J in his eye.  The LA Clippers immediately dispatched a scout to sign her to a 10-day.  Sadly, Joe's good BFF buddy, Saigon, could not be reached for comment.


February 10, 2009

Fakin Da Funk III: LEBRON ON DELONTE (From Knee-Knee, with Love)

A couple years back, while trolling ESPN Page 2 I came across a fun Valentine's Day article. Delonte West opened up on February 14 about his ideal romantic evening, complete with a yacht, Jim Jones pumping in the Benz, some Moet, steak, skrimp, one prepubescent-tail-chasing crooner to serenade… and Popeye's chicken. Oh, and Jaws, too. Then-Celtic teammate and world-reknowned love doctor Orien Greene chimes in to add to the humor.

Some tidbits from the hilarity that ensues…

D-West: So, I pick her up in my white convertible. From there, I'd have the music pumping on the radio. The Jim Jones pumping, you know, 'Summer in Miami' song pumping. Got to keep a little gangsta, you can't be too soft. You can't be in there playing some guy that's crying, talking about don't leave me and love me baby, wah wah and all that. So Jim Jones pumping and then from there, wind blowing through the hair, boom, we get straight to the point -- we eat afterwards because I don't want to kiss no onions. I don't want to kiss you tasting like onions and steak and mushrooms and everything.”

O.G.: “What, you taking her back to the Mot 6 [Motel 6]?”

D-West: So, where we going then? You know, with the female readers, I might get me a superstar off this one. I might get me Beyonce or something.”

O.G.: “Take her to your yacht, dog.”

D-West: “Sit down and have some dinner, some shrimps and steaks, keep it nice and breezy. Pop some bottles, some Moet Rose. The red Moet, we ain't popping no Kristal, it tastes like urination. We ain't popping no Kris, that's $500 a bottle. It ain't that serious. It ain't going to get you drunk. Make sure you put that in there. We ain't doing a $500 bottle, we're doing a $99 wine and dine. While we're eating, have a singer. Who should I have?"

O.G.: “R. Kelly.”

D-West: “I can't afford R. Kelly.”

O.G.: “You can't afford R. Kelly? Oh, you talking about you going to actually have him on the boat singing? Oh, man, you doing it like that?! I'm telling you, you all might not come back for two, three days.”

D-West: “So, we are done eating, man, we've got to have someone singing while we're eating. OK, so from there, we're doing a midnight skinny-dipping jump. Alright? From there, hopefully she's got money because I hope Jaws gets her, boom, make sure she got me in the will, bank, I'm good. Oh well, shark got her! Jaws got her. Nah, we ain't going there.”

D-West: “One more thing: When we're on the yacht eating, we're going to have some Popeyes chicken. That's for dinner. It's to let her know, put a mental image on her mind, first and foremost, if you ain't from the hood, you don't like Popeyes chicken. Everyone there loves Popeyes chicken and the biscuits -- phew. But that's just getting it on her mind, saying, you know, 'Yeah, I can wine and dine you, but I'm a little rough around the edges and I'm keeping it real with you. I can be romantic, but this is real, we're going to eat some chicken tonight. Chicken and biscuits.'”

It's particularly funny given the timing, because the Very Next Night after V-Day, Delonte was delivered a very special message, from a newfound acquaintance... ;-)

"February 15, 2006

Dearest Delonte -

From the instant that things took off, I knew you and I would become glued to one another. As I pressed not-so-tenderly against your Adam's Apple, I hoped that our One Shining Moment could somehow remain frozen in time, perhaps like a poster where everyone could someday say they, too, were a 'Witness'. So sorry about the bruises I left on your neck and chest: just tell your homeboyz you got a hickey!

But alas, due to circumstances beyond our control, we had to go our separate ways. I truly hope we can meet again sometime soon, perhaps next season, since you won't be around by the springtime, what with the playoffs and all. (Sigh!) Thinking of you, until then...


LeBron's Right Knee"


What? What?