B-Trip: Home
Opened up my email this morning to discover Roscoe sent me the lyrics to his brilliant new hip hop jam 'Vitamin Deez (In Your Mouth)', extolling the virtues of drinking milk. Some of my favorite lines:
"Keep your bones strong now, even when you’re old
May not want to do it, but you’ll do what you’re told"
...as well as...
"When a milkshake born, then a milkshake dies
And yeah, my girl Kelis got a supersize
With her big bootie shakin till the sun don’t rise"
Ah, yes....til the sun don't rise, which I imagine means that bootie shakes til right around high noon.
Anyway, reading Roscoe's poetry got my mind in a rhythmic state. Thus, I've been coming up with a little something of my own while sitting here:
Laugh so hard you fall out your seat
Like a drunk-ass bastard, like my Uncle Pete
Shit's going worldwide...from Des Moines to Crete
Fools-who-step-up go down in defeat
I’m regulatin' busters like chaff from wheat
Yo, screw the '94 season. Shit was incomplete
And fuck them hands in the air, I WANNA SEE YA’LL FEET
Errbody doin' HEADSTANDS on the street
But when the party's over lather, rinse, repeat
For-now,-though, continue sucklin' my lyrical teat.
Like climate change, you can't stop the beat
So when Al emails, just click delete
Accidentally packed 'cold', I meant to grab the heat
Guess I gotta pay for anything I eat.
Excuse me if you will for being indiscreet
I know this shorty who just hooked up with Skeet.
She called him semisweet with 30-thread count sheets
But there’s a mutha fugga I don’t wanna meet.
Put him on the-list-with-the-boys of Backstreet.
She-said he’s not exactly a decathlete.
Somewhat effete, almost obsolete
And just to make sure Skeet did not secrete
He wore a parachute upon his parakeet
B-Trip: Home
Elle and I are off to the Hollywood Forever cemetery to have a picnic with friends and watch ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO'S NEST projected on the side of a mausoleum. The b-trip scenario under such circumstances is anybody's guess, so it's best to take preemptive action.
