i'll mail you $5 if you actually read this tripe trash (tldr massive!)

[sinicalypse]

it's 1:45 in the morning and i'm feeling strangely masochistic and my dumb little already-on-page-2 post from this afternoon reminded me how much vitriol gets pumping whenever i write something on here and people line up to slag off, so like, in that spirit i want your best shots shits and other bodily excretions in short order cuz i'm about to post something so long and droll and boring and pointless and WAAAAH I'M SUCH A PITHY LITTLE LOSER PITY ME, PITY THE SINICLAYPISS that there's no reason it should exist on my own myspace blog, let alone your fine little community here.

 

therefore, i expect to be hit squarely in the seat by everyone here with high standards for how they like their watmm. please don't let me down, cuz i'm looking up the latin for "i suck, therefore i am" to get tattooed on my left forearm.

 

anyways, here are the "condolences for contemplation concentration confluence calamity and cantankerous contributions to your digital realm... cool!!@"

 

lately i've found myself saying "you know, the boy who cried wolf eventually got his dumb ass eaten by the wolf." obviously, the story is supposed to impart the reader with a lesson stating that by making false claims so often you'll put yourself in a situation where nobody believes you when the happenstance finally comes through, often to rather "oh shit"-worthy results, that is, unless you're the wolf.

 

obviously, this phenomenon applies to me as i've told people throughout the years that someday, somehow, and somewhere (possibly even over the rainbow) i'm going to be some magnanimous force of rap-based-excellence. i've talked to a handful of up-n-coming type producers over the years and gotten a handful of beats to work on with the promise that i'd get something done, and then the confluence of production and rapper would create something that would turn heads, if not cause them to nod along with the whole song sammich being served up by the dynamic tag team of me-n-whoevermadethebeat.

 

it seems so easy on the surface: i've been a stalwart of very quality hiphop since late 1998, when i was introduced to some of the finer denizen of the rap community, such as latyrx aceyalone blackalicious del pharoahe atmosphere and so on and so forth. from there, ne'er these 10+ years i've str8up geeked out on what i consider to be some of the greatest wordsmithery on the planet, expanding my boundaries to include more straightforward popmusic fare such as jay-z and tupac, and i've even grown to love the fun-bad shit such as mc brains who, btw, in his one big bad actually-heard-it-on-backspin-43 single "oochie coochie" comes right out of the gates head chock full of steam and confidence and bestows upon us the hilarious line "oochie coochie la la la, i am the brains and i'm up to par"

 

yep. not "check it, i'm the fucking man with the method" or "you must be basin' if you think that you can tackle the triumphant" or "latyrx has very low drag overhead cams and nitrous airbags the carpet is shag filled with features it has it vastly contrasts all the other hovercrafts" or even "aslaam alaiekum people of good will, i offer you the greeting of thought manifested skill" ---- you know, something that right from the inception of hte song comes out and smacks you across the face with some dopeness stating that the given practictioner(s) of this work are indeed some bonafide fuckyeah motherfuckers who are about to take you for a rollercoaster ride down the euphonic superhighway. mc brains doesn't try to give us any of that, merely, he just comes out and states that he's strumming along right there at the course average, which is either a refreshing dose of non-ego-inflated honesty, perhaps even a moment of clarity in the rap game, or the more likely scenario: it's so hilariously retarded that one can't help but start laughing out loud at the poor guy and ride the rest of his cut rather sarcastically.

 

on the surface it looks like i've allowed a tangent to grow and manifest itself into paragraph format, which with my writing style usually derails me from whatever i was talking about and sends me in bold new directions, however, in this case this actually goes to speak of a subject i was planning on getting to: breaking the ice in the wonderful world of rap.

 

my inherent audacity to believe that i can flow quite well stems from teh fact that i am a student of hip hop over the last decade-plus, and i believe that my tastes fundamentally gravitate towards the most balls-out unapologetically brilliant "no sympathy for those who can't keep up" type fare. to elaborate, when you go out and make a song, at least for me, it's easy to occasionally forget that you're not writing this song entirely for yourself, moreover, there's an audience out there who has to receive understand and consequently be able to enjoy your efforts, otherwise you're essinestially (watmmassive!) writing a big long diary entry that's genetically engineered to appeal to you yourself and you, which in turn might hinder its chances of going out and becoming some sort of a commercial product.

 

i can overwhelm myself somewhat easily, usually by thinking far too much about whatever it is i'm trying to achieve. in this case, that of the wordsmithery, it's easy to get all kinds of technical and overanalyze every single word and try to be so clear and exact in what you're saying that the results are you fill up a notebook page with morethanamouthful of words that, literally, sounds great on paper however when you try to translate it to a song you end up trying to stick to the script and as a result the flow sounds horrendously forced and quite honestly unflowable, more like you're trying to recite something to the meter of a song as opposed to actually riding it and working with it to amalgamate both efforts into one streamlined unit of maximum excellence.

 

the other mental writer's block i come across is subject matter, and this is where my built-in excuse generator 5000XL comes in, as i tell myself that since my life is kind of pathetic for the most part, mostly devised around smoke and mirrors and digital billboard webpages genetically engineered to convince you that i'm some sort of transcendentally cool entity who merely doesn't try, as opposed to being someone that's essinestially failed at whatever he's set out to do, although the effort is admitedly lacking.

 

that brings forth the obvious question "and why is the effort lacking, james?!@" the easy answer is that i'm lazy, furthermore that i evidently enjoy sitting around being a mostly-unemployed pudgeball who deludes himself into believing that he's an up and coming artist even though he's never penned a truly serious song effort beyond a few bastardized attempts that quite honesly sounded like shit shit shit and i quickly grew embarrassed of within a week or two of creating them.

 

beyond laziness, the honest truth (yay for redundancy!) is that i'm pretty damn mortified of failure... what if i go out there and try my ass off and realize that i can't really do this that well, why even if i can write some clever shit i've got so much homoputzoafus-species in my genome that i'm innately unable to flow it, and then the whole house of cards comes crashing down around me, leaving me homeless and sleeping in the woods where i catch a load of a hungry wolf and then i'm like WOLF WOLF WOLF MOTHERFUCKER OH GODDAMMIT SHIT FUCK CUNTCOCK CUNTCOCKTIONS THE WOLF IS HERE TO GET MEEEE!@$## and since everyone is used to me spouting hot air chock full of unsubstansiated claims and unfulfilled promises and claims, nobody listens and then i end up being a victim of my own idiocy, which is truly what i deserve in the end.

 

despite that fact, and i'm being some sort of brutally honest with the lot of you here, since on your website one of the things you always do is come off as some sort of transcendentally cool since even if you're not formally registered as a musician or rapper or commercial artist, your myspace page is essentially one big fat shrine to you screaming for attention intrigue respect and consequently desire from people out there in the digital abyss. one always wants to put their best foot forward in order to convey an image of coolness that makes people, especially the wimmenfolk, go "damn, i wanna know this guy beyond the computer screen" and then they're compelled to check out your wares and, god willing, donate financial goodness to your cause, that of entertaining/informing/uplifting them whilst moving their heads, if not their asses, in spasmodic fits of semi-rhythm.

 

so here i am tonight, 1:13 in the morning whinging on my myspace blog with another ~12 bars of a potential love song to an anonymous archetype of woman who i'd love to know... i need to get some beats on and, pardon the cliche, lose myself in the music the moment i own it don't ever let it go. and i need to stop talking about what i need to do and do the obvious thing which is doing those obvious things. i really do wonder what i'm seeking from y'all by putting this out there... a pat on teh back like "comeon james crank some shit out i wanna hear it i'll let you know what i think" or "dude, if i'm reading this i obviously buy into your shit already so do something with it" or maybe even "holy shit i wanna fuck you, can you pop a plane out of chicago sometime?!@"

 

well that's only happened once, and it somehow got stretched out into the most improbable if not impossible 10 month long distance relationship which ingratiated me into the wonderful world of woman-wooing-n-cooing-n-doing, which i thoroughly enjoyed but was still miffed htat it wasn't enough to break me out of my approximately 14 year slump.

 

i swear to you that i have the wherewithol to do this, and i truly do believe that if i had a chance to hook up with a friend into the rap world, someone like robust, or maybe a cat i've hung out with once in real life and corresponded with online a few times over the years: louis logic, or maybe even the dream aceyalone... someone in the game, someone who has had rampant success making tracks, or shit even someone who's got albums out and done a tour... whilst i can't make this an excuse and tell everyone to expect failure unless i get some under-the-wing treatment from someone, i truly believe that it'd sure help.

 

the theory is that like, whilst i'm sitting here in my own little world at my family's place, mostly ostracized with few real life friends and basically nothing to do outside of a few spot-temp-jobs here and there, it's hard to get into that "party in a single person, just add microphone" mode when your life is boring and repetitive and consequently laced with all kinds of sedatives. i fall into my usual ruts nad make excuse after excuse after excuse about why i didn't do it... but on the flip side, i truly believe that if i was given that "shot" to hang in a studio with someone established, see how they go aobut constructing a verse a hook a song, or how they record it and interface with their producers... i mean, it's like, if you gave me a quiz on military techniques and firearm handiness right now i'd prolly test out as some sort of a jokeworthy shite soldier... however, if you dropped me right square in the middle of baghdad in a shirt that says "fuck allah up his stupid fucking ass: mohammed was a fucking charlatan" and a M-16 with hostiles flanked around me in a circle, shit, i reckon i'd be a pretty good soldier because the adrenaline would start flowing and at that very moment i realize my little buffered paradise of insulating excuses would immediately blow the fuck up and i'd be there in the heat of hte moment having to not think about what i have to do, moreover DOING what i have to do, and that's the key....

 

so what can i do now to help myself stack the deck somewhat until i can come across that chance to sit down with someone equally hungry to make quality rap wares for the world?!@ welp, the obvious answer is rap... on a jay-z reasonable doubt dvd i have, jay talks about growing up and tryin'ta learn how to rap... what he'd do was tell himself htat he had to memorize 4 bars per day, and then on the trains buses cabs and idle times he'd work on his craft around living his social life. as he went further and further from home, he'd up that to 6-8 bars every day, 10 bars every day, then a verse a day, and so on and so forth. method to the madness. that's the kind of thing i have to force myself to do, cuz really, what the fuck do i have to lose?!@

 

my life is already boring: underemployed, mostly bottled up, and whilst i've got some charm and decent looks and a way with words, i havent been able to grab that indeterminable "it" factor that perambulates through my veins and pushes me into "the zone" where it seems like i'm going on autopilot, like, who knows where the words are really coming from?!@ i mean, who fucking cares?!@ i'm a medium to grab these words thoughts and patterns from teh oblivion of the great mental abyss and manifest them into our corporeal realm with myself acting as the conduit between that theoretical world of complete and utter 1-type-totaltarian-thought (one being a symbol for everything as opposed to 0, which is total nothingness)

 

sure i love to bitch about things a lot, and i always am quite afraid that people who read my drivel might come off thinking that i'm bitter and jealous of other people's success and as such that's why i'm deconstructing them and their works and lambasting them in a public manner, kind of like putting my foot up on the barrel of the captain morgan logo and being like "look at me, i'm so much better than this shit" but really, i'm not backing it up. it's really like i have to do some things in life to prove that i'm worthy of being a satirist at heart, and whilst deluding yourself into supreme-confidence is better than trolling in utter self-loathing and consequent self-pity, still, i have to be honest with myself deep down beneath it all before i can truly be honest with you, the world at large, and then manifest the ability to weave words in such a way that they're worth the time requisite for your consumption of them.

 

so yeah, i'm going to keep on keeping on how to figure this modern-age-alchemy out, cuz really rap is a modern day alchemy.... alchemists, if you didnt know, were back in medieval times / the dark ages / whatever and purported to be able to turn lead into gold, aka something completely worthless and commonplace into something rare valuable and, most importantly, saluable. rapping/writing/prose/etc is really the same phenomenon cuz you're taking a valueless commodity in words, something that freely flow through the heads of everyone and perpetually exchange in the art of communication, which is as free as a complimentary kiss from a hooker that you just paid five grand to for the next hour. anyways, taking that valueless commodity and turning it into a product that people are willing to pay for?!@ alchemy, dude. it's fucking alchemy.

 

and that's what i'm working on now, 21st century textual alchemy, and here's to the hopes that by actually putting in effort-- as opposed to merely coming on here once a month and whining about how i need to put in effort -- i'll finally be able to break some mental barricades-n-barriers and get enough inertia to move the object that is me from its stationary state and once the ball gets rolling and gets some momentum, the snowball effect will come into play and do its best impression of the domino effect and once that positivity is perambulating through the whole of my mind body and soul, well ,that's when i think i can finally live up to being transcendentally cool and awesome and i'll walk around jovial 24/7 cuz life is a blast and i can literally enrich people's lives by having even a menial presence in it once in every-so-often and from there once you've become a quality practictioner of the fine art of entertainment, then and only then can you have the audacity to ask for money for your efforts.

 

again, the key word is effort and if i wanna have any chance for this plight to take flight, well, it's time i stop talking about it on myspace and start doing it in real life.

 

wish me luck, give me advice, or hook me up with rap beats please =D =D =D

 

hasta luego, amigos

 

# james

 

[Guest beatfanatic]

*googles the word perambulating*

[Brandi_B]

1. Don't get that tattoo

2. It's aslam alaikum

3. I read the whole thing

4. I'm 100 percent serious go to a local community college enroll in ONE only ONE class on writing

4.1 it will force you to organize your thoughts so you can make some good rhymes/lyrics trust me

5. The boy that cried wolf did get screwed in the end, but that doesn't mean you have to be him

6. Practice and master your musical craft

7. Buy a cheap 15-30 dollar mini digital recorder and go to a park, public space or wherever out of your house and verbal ideas and beatbox type beats take em home and elobarte on them

8. You're obviously intelligent but a bit jumbled..slow down and make notes from your tangents, take the notes and turn them into lyrics or sell them to rappers.

9. I will send you 1 (one) qua;ity hip hop beat i was gonna use for the show :the boondocks" but we decided to go with another one and i don't have anything to do with it so you can have it as long as you give me credit if you use it. Credit goes to "Katie Kilobyte" i'm registered with ascap.

 

Take one day at a time, and by all means vent on the internet, because there's rarely any repercussions unless you threaten someone.

 

Best wishes, i'll pm you the beat in the next few weeks. Ill send you the mixdown and then seperate tracks just cuz im feeling generous right now, and i don't think i'm hot shit, but you asked so i;ll give.

 

/end

[Guest Helper ET]

who the fuck is this guy?

[Brandi_B]

who the fuck is this guy?

 

read the rules

 

» Click to show Spoiler - click again to hide... «

dick

[perunamuusi]

salam alaikum

[Guest beatfanatic]

/

[Guest Helper ET]

\

[Brandi_B]

salam alaikum

NSFW

» Click to show Spoiler - click again to hide... «

 

dxmnit one of my best friends is muslim. Shoulda known. +10 to ludd you win this round. Next time gadget, next time.

 

You and I are do for a collab my friend.

[Guest hahathhat]

i'll mail you $5 if you stop posting

 

» Click to show Spoiler - click again to hide... «

no i won't.

[sinicalypse]

hahahah holy shit on this rhyme i was working on tonight i happened to mention commander riker... the context is that this is a first-draft attempt at doing a proper song about my relationship with heroin...

 

ahem!

 

yeah, i'm a junkie

a problematic erratic smack chasing monkey

with a penthouse condo on my back

i can't even claim "hey at least it's not crack"

being a lifer i've paid the piper so much

he could probably afford a decent sniper

well, at least i'm not at home watching commander riker

or out terrorizing people with a band of bikers

or stalking quantazelle cuz man i like her**

i need her i want her and her IDE belt

then i can make a tribute album

so christina ricci isn't the only one who's properly felt

 

** = i started keystyling starting with this line cuz it just felt right in the context of whattem

 

 

rah rah rah ramble ramble ramble it was cold and raining outside i was smoking i had a cheap pen and 20 minutes to kill, so blow me.

[Guest hahathhat]

it fineally becomes clear why i never liked coleridge

[sinicalypse]

i'll mail you $5 if you stop posting

 

» Click to show Spoiler - click again to hide... «

no i won't.

 

let's cut the bullshit and the attempts at clever wordplay and get right to the meat and potatoes here, hold the potatoes:

 

i'll blow you if one day you're able to make a thread or a reply that makes me either LOL or go "whoa, that was quite interesting"

 

i know you're a pillar of this whattemassive community and all, but really, alls i ever i see you do is show up and make stupid little jabs tryin'ta be campy-hilarious and well, 9750 posts = much much practice so respect given but like, yeah, it's so funny that my natural instinct retort is just to look at who's slagging me and realize "holy shit they've never really had any discernable posting style that i know off the top of my head and consequently can rip on"

 

love me or hate me at least y'all know who the fuck i am =D

 

[Guest beatfanatic]

hey sini your website doesnt work ? whats up with that

 

ohh and nobody listens to blackalicious, lyrics borns or any of that quanum/solesides crew anymore

[Guest Helper ET]

the logic behind "ill give you 5 dollars if you read this" is retarded to begin with. so genreally speaking, around ym area of the world, even minimum wage pays around 12 dollars per hour. thats 6 dollars per half hour. thats 3 dollars per 15 mintues. now i havent read the op, but i imagine that it would take longer than 15 minutes to read, probably more like 30-45, which means by spendiong that amount of time reading, syniclipse wouls actually owe me a few dollars more tha 5. i would expect at least 10 dollars, plus an additional 100 dollars to compensate for the idiotic concepts that my mind had endured by reading such misguided nonsense of a fool

 

and still now now, having not read the op, synicliples in all moral correctness should paypal me 5 dollars for having to suffer through this horrible expericenxe

[Guest hahathhat]

i'll mail you $5 if you stop posting

 

» Click to show Spoiler - click again to hide... «

no i won't.

 

let's cut the bullshit and the attempts at clever wordplay and get right to the meat and potatoes here, hold the potatoes:

 

i'll blow you if one day you're able to make a thread or a reply that makes me either LOL or go "whoa, that was quite interesting"

 

i know you're a pillar of this whattemassive community and all, but really, alls i ever i see you do is show up and make stupid little jabs tryin'ta be campy-hilarious and well, 9750 posts = much much practice so respect given but like, yeah, it's so funny that my natural instinct retort is just to look at who's slagging me and realize "holy shit they've never really had any discernable posting style that i know off the top of my head and consequently can rip on"

 

love me or hate me at least y'all know who the fuck i am =D

 

i'll dip my nuts in your vegitables

[essines]

hey sini your website doesnt work ? whats up with that

 

ohh and nobody listens to blackalicious, lyrics borns or any of that quanum/solesides crew anymore

 

i do. love lyrics born.

[sinicalypse]

 

holy shit miss ceee-phacks i have to confess that this reply blew my mind cuz you took me completely seriously and at my word and systematically went through and unjumbled the mess of whirlwindesque thoughts and replied to them in a clear and concise/organized manner... and you seem to be very nice.

 

thank you for the effort, as really, i don't get this much... if a'tall, or even ever. wow, you are indeed teh shit, that is, if shit was a colloqualism for fucking proper, mate.

 

1. Don't get that tattoo

 

naw. i'd love to get deus ex machina somewhere on my right arm tho, cuz "god coming out of a machine" in latin being on my primary hand that operates machines is a nice symbol metaphor or whatever for contemporary human society. machines are arguably the bane of mankind, however, to date they're our most endearing creations, that is, unless you're a fecalpheliac or carbon dioxide junkie.

 

2. It's aslam alaikum

 

yeah i couldn't be arsed to look it up on google and get the correct spelling, as i often do when i use the term in messages to people whom i wanna impress.... for my myspace blog and teh whattemassive, eh fuck it i mean like they'll sound it out and know what i was saying.

 

3. I read the whole thing

 

ok so you are eligible for $5 smackeroonies, aka USD, and that can be sent via money order cold hard cash pennies or even redeemable for $5 worth of sinicalyptical wares, which would be like 10 copies of my entire musical/rapping anthology spanning across approximately 4-5 CDRs, or you could take up my gigolo service and get $5 of some red hot loving from a man whose fingers of fury can massage a keyboard at approximately 100-105wpm with <1% error, so like, they can do good things for you with <1% error.

 

oh and i cook a mean omelette. lemme know if you want me to overnight UPS you one.

 

4. I'm 100 percent serious go to a local community college enroll in ONE only ONE class on writing

 

been there done htat, as i did it last in the fall of 2007 semester... i did have another creative writing class back in 2000, however the teacher disliked me and my style, and i disliked his teaching style (bagging on cliches conventions and mechanisms utilized by writers, which he bitched aobut as being hacky and hackneyed and all kinds of bullshit, then when he read us his works at the end of hte class, as if it were some sort of masterful joke weaved throughout the whole of the semester, his stuff was chock full of all of the writing cliches-n-conventions he bitched about all semester. he gave me a realy low grade early on, and my classmates had my back and were like wtf so i used every assingment as a medium to piss him off, resulting in a final paper short story about a society where people fuck computers so much it's becoming an epidemic and humanity is actually in danger of dying out because computer sex is perfect and therefore uber-desirable. yeah. i remember my protagonist was named cornelius jurevicius, which was hte one compliment he gave me: "beautiful latin name" and it cracked me up cuz all i did was take two NFL football players with the longest names i could think of, cornelius bennett and joe jurevicius, and hten he credited me for being a latin buff... hahahahaha. yeah i got a solid D)

 

in 2007 i was like, the 26 year old dude in the class as opposed to the vast majority of 19-23 year olds, so as such i felt like a curmudgeon, but i wrote my ass off, and the class was set up to where everyone read their shit aloud and it was discussed and critiqued by the whole class, and like, i remember one bearded-n-sandaled neo-hippie who believe it or not LOVES boc (i asked specifically=) told me that he couldn't say anything about my dystopian future short story (told in a manner like it was a little textfile in vi on an old unix shell, complete with honest to god operating system prompts that emebllished a bit between unix and old DOS) because anything he could say would be an understatement, and yeah. there were a couple'a girls who liked me, but one flaked out quickly when i didnt go to see mum with her, cuz all of a sudden the next day after i turned her down poof she got a new boyfriend and cold shouldered me to death, and the other girl sold me weed for awhile until one night where she had a bag for me and invited me out drinking with her and her friends afte rshe got off work and i fell asleep and didnt go and i think she took it personal and hasnt talked to me since =(

 

long story (NEVER) short, yeah, been there done that. the teacher in 07 loved me and i still occasionally correspond with her when i write up something solid.

 

4.1 it will force you to organize your thoughts so you can make some good rhymes/lyrics trust me

5. The boy that cried wolf did get screwed in the end, but that doesn't mean you have to be him

 

damn straight, unless by screwed you mean one of those awesome things where you sit there and a girl is bouncing on your lap and actually screwing you, in which at that case man if i gotta get eaten and regurgitated by a wolf for a pity fuck, shit, that's what a dunny's gotta do.

 

6. Practice and master your musical craft

 

yeah that's the biggie, tupac. thats the key and like last time i dumped some stuff to fred mcgriff he told me i was lyrically stunning or something, but i needed the mmmph. he told me my tracks came off like i was reading them off of a piece of paper. http://sinicalypse.kaen.orgyou can download them or maybe even hear them on http://www.myspace.com/sinicalypticalcuntmyspace and be the judge for yourself.

 

7. Buy a cheap 15-30 dollar mini digital recorder and go to a park, public space or wherever out of your house and verbal ideas and beatbox type beats take em home and elobarte on them

 

yea hwith one of those i recorded a bunch of freestyles on orangedust's "followed by ghosts"... i reckon if you googled the phrase "followed by sinicalypse" you could find them, altho i think my old host is down and out so i dunno if they're around... a combined 45 minutes of solid locked in the car in the garage pocket recorder action... altho my good pocket recorder was stolen at the first waxtrax! night last may @ liar's club =(

 

8. You're obviously intelligent but a bit jumbled..slow down and make notes from your tangents, take the notes and turn them into lyrics or sell them to rappers.

 

that is the alchemy i speak of and dream of, milady. thank you for telling me tho cuz i really do appreciate people who invest any time/brainpower into what i write, it's quite touching.

 

9. I will send you 1 (one) qua;ity hip hop beat i was gonna use for the show :the boondocks" but we decided to go with another one and i don't have anything to do with it so you can have it as long as you give me credit if you use it. Credit goes to "Katie Kilobyte" i'm registered with ascap.

ZOMFGWTFBBQ!@$#@ YOU FUCKING PWN THIS'ERE FORUM MISS C TO TEH YN

 

i've got a mcgriff beat and some from a myspace d00d named herma puma, but i promise soon they will be put to good use. i've got a friend out here named jay, a man who i affectionally call "black velvet" and like, he's down to wor kwith me on shit, but he's enigmatic and i need to take the first leap of faith / big step to initiate inertia, so like, yeah, it's a slow process but i'm geting there. my life circumstances mandate that i'mma have a hard time getting a proper fulltime job for the res tof hte year, due to formalities and expungement waiting periods (no convictions, but fucking arrests on my record haunt me... nevermind i was vindicated of all wrongdoing, and like, one time was a straightup plantjob on me, the other i happened ot be driving by a reverse-sting (cops pose as dealers) and all of a sudden 3 black dudes jump out in fron tof my car like YO YO YO STOP MAN WE GOT YOU HERE SHOP HERE and before i can say anything a white dude with a gun runs up to me like "OUT OF THE CAR!@" and its like, fuck, i was gonna shop at least 6 or 7 blocks away... so yeah. legitimate bullshit = me having time. i need this shit.

 

Take one day at a time, and by all means vent on the internet, because there's rarely any repercussions unless you threaten someone.

 

 

hahahdejf;dsad holy shit somewhere i have posts about how this horrible bitch donna parlayed internet/myspace messageboard/comment-zone beef and a mutual friend going and falling out in public cuz he snorted two bags of heroin after smoking a giant crack hit, like, she hated me and wanted to sick the cops on me for being an evil junkie cunt dealer loser extraordinnaire and like, yeah, this girl cried to her local police htat i'm an evil drug dealer stalking her and selling her friends drugs and she's got a baby she's scared for her life i'm driving by 10 times a day and threatening her on myspace, and then when the now-ex-friend was in jail for technically dying for a few seconds on the metra train adn waking up in an ambulence under arrest for felly possession and misdy parpahrenalia, he teamed up wiht her and gave the cops "his drug dealer", aka me, and they saw like 5 arrests iwth no convictions and thought "this guy is a dealer, he has a bigtime lawyer to get him off on technicalities" and long story short, 11 suburban cops from two different suburbs all raided my house one night, after they pulled me over and planted a bowl on me to try and use the car as leverage to get inside, even tho they technically walked right in and had me by the neck and said whilst choking me "i dare you to tell us that we can't come in. please tell us that, cuz if you waste an hour of our time to get the paperwork we're gonna have to do a full rectal search in the station and unless you're gay that shit is gonna hurt man" and they found nothing ubt some old one-hitters nad baggies so they gave me 2 counts misdy paraphrenalia and they threw a fit cuz they expected like, maybe somewhere between at least ounces to maybe a half or full kilo at my place, as they tore out vents and tore apart teddy bears looking for a bigtime stash, but alas, nothing.

 

the best part was i had a STOP (sign) bush bumper sticker on my computer (the GO kerry was geigh) and the head cop in charge straight smacked me across hte face when he saw it and said "you piece of shit, i voted for bush, he's a great man you little drug dealing piece of junkie shit"

 

so yeah, ive had internet shit, at least partially, blow up in my face. the only reprecussions is nowadays that one cop, the bush guy, feels the need to arbitrarily pull me over and search me whenever he sees me cuz "there's robberies i nthe neighborhood, and i mean, here you are... neighborhood junkie.. nad i mean, robberies over there, here you are... what would you do if you were us?! comeon man" and he almost expects me to be like "yeha man i'm a total piece of shit i mean every time i see a cop car i'll pull down my pants bend over and cough for you just to be on the safe side.

 

and yeah, everything that happened was what this bithc donna said she was gonna do if i ever said a word about her or in her general direction again. the timing was funny, cuz from when the ex-friend od'd and ratted me out to my raid it was a couple'a days, but i came across her ultimatium/threat thingy and said "fuck off, you dumb bitch" and literally hours later i'm raided. hahahhahdkfjdas;fjdas those dumbass cops.

 

Best wishes, i'll pm you the beat in the next few weeks. Ill send you the mixdown and then seperate tracks just cuz im feeling generous right now, and i don't think i'm hot shit, but you asked so i;ll give.

 

yeah sorry the pm reply was giant like this, but you know, this is what i do and when its 3am and i wanna stay up all night and continue laundry and playing these $15 worth of $0.25-$1.00 records i crate-dug earlier searching for lewpz, well, babbling like this keeps me going.

 

and besides, i love it when whattemers show up to tell me i suck. you guys are letting me down i mean people like me now?!@ fuck that!@ where's the haterade when you need it?!@

 

# j.mz

 

/end

 

[sinicalypse]

i'll mail you $5 if you stop posting

 

» Click to show Spoiler - click again to hide... «

no i won't.

 

let's cut the bullshit and the attempts at clever wordplay and get right to the meat and potatoes here, hold the potatoes:

 

i'll blow you if one day you're able to make a thread or a reply that makes me either LOL or go "whoa, that was quite interesting"

 

i know you're a pillar of this whattemassive community and all, but really, alls i ever i see you do is show up and make stupid little jabs tryin'ta be campy-hilarious and well, 9750 posts = much much practice so respect given but like, yeah, it's so funny that my natural instinct retort is just to look at who's slagging me and realize "holy shit they've never really had any discernable posting style that i know off the top of my head and consequently can rip on"

 

love me or hate me at least y'all know who the fuck i am =D

 

i'll dip my nuts in your vegitables

 

CUMMING SOON: MY CARROT NEEDS RANCH SAUCE (AND 37 OTHER PENIS RELATED SONG CLASSICKS!!@)

 

©2011-2012 thirtyseven records in-core-purr-ated.

 

[Brandi_B]

fux that. I love blackalicious. saw em at ziggys in winston-salem a few years back. one of the best shows ive ever been to. They put it down. I was up front dancin and the two backup dancers/singers dragged me up on stage to dance/vibe with em. We chilled after wards and smoked a lil, some of the chillest open minded and intelligent hip op artists i've ever met. +1000 for blackalicious.

 

edit: this was directed at mr. beardsnes's post :)

 

ps- yes

[sinicalypse]

hey sini your website doesnt work ? whats up with that

 

ohh and nobody listens to blackalicious, lyrics borns or any of that quanum/solesides crew anymore

 

oh yeah, i had linked to a dump of the new squarepusher EP stored on sinicalypse.com, along with hosting an image used on my myspace page for only 3 days or so.

 

i got a msg from ym friend about how my account suddenly had a massive bandwith rush and if i didnt kill that shit he'd kill my account.

 

so yeah, basically i'm the non-primary-site on my friend's hosting package, and since we had a falling out last year when he blew up on me for talking to a cute girl i met at a venetian snares show on irc (i mean comeon, we were like this close to screwing in an alley right there that night during otto's set and for her to give me a folded up little piece of paper with #420 on some irc server with a nickname on it, holy shit that was so endearing and fuckyeah and like yeah. she had an english/scottish-lite accent too cuz even tho she's technically american she spent her formulative years over there... man i was in and in.

 

so anyways im talking ot her whilst in the midst of about teh 2nd full month of essentially pro-bono work trying to start up a paysite and he flips out like im not there to hang out, im there to work at which point i was like dude just relax man, and btw your roommate ann is a bitch she says im a joke at rapping.

 

he said i was a joke and i needed to realize it and give up on that bullshit and focus on something productive and salable, like his website/webstore business idea thingy.

 

so i spent the hour between that phonecall and him getting back to the loft from his 9-5 writing a really good rap song, actually, to which his indierocker friend heard me workin on it and was like whoa thats good, lets record it this wknd. shit i think it was actually my fuckyou to the flashbulb song, having heard his mc flashbumb songs wher ehe comes off like he's taking the piss cuz he's so much better more interesting dynamic than the savage rap music for savage unsophisticated people who clearly dont have a high enough IQ to appreciate the genius of works by the flashbulb!@#

 

so anyways he came back and flipped the fuck out and i likened it to having a big fight with my wife at which point he laid into me and he was so intense and screaming and creepy i was like "ok man, if we're gonna go there, what the fuck is up with me catching you staring at me about 20-25 times over these last couple'a months, how come every time you come over to show me how to do something on the software you always have to find a way to touch me, and how come when you're screaming at me it feels like i'm having a fight with my wife.

 

oh yeah i forgot to mention one day whilst he was at his 9-5 and i was working there, after a few hours of working with him sporadically instructing me on tasks over aim, he sends me an url and i see that there's a webcam on me. i mean, its not like he thought i was robbing him or anything cuz i had been there like pretty much all day every day for a month or so at that point, but like, creepy shit man... a friend unknowingly watching you with all that aforementioned shit piled on.

 

i've had at least 3 maybe even 4 people make solid gay passes at me in the last year, to which i'm called homophobic and told i can't take a joke if i say anything, but really, when people wanna always put their hands on me and one time one d00d even walked up to the computer i was on butt ass naked and i turned away ignoring him so he decided to just drop his dick on the mouse so when i reached for it... yeah man, seriously what the fuck, this is on the virge of being some sort of issue with me over this last year, cuz with the getting-in-shape and female attention comes this weird quasi-homoerotic male attention and i'm fucking sick of it for one.... it's like you're put in an odd position where if you say shit it's turned on you for being an intolerant homophobe who's the secretly gay one in a textbook example of psychological displacement, and i mean if you don't say anything, shit, they keep going.

 

but yeah anyways. so even now nearly a year later he wont talk to me anymore after that., and li,e, that's the guy whose technically hosting sinicalypse.com, so i dont get much priority/bandwith/etc.

 

it'll be back in time for april's fools, tho =D

 

WHOLLY UNNECESSARY 3:40 AM QUALITY STORIES ON TAP BAYBEEEEE

 

# jaym-Z

[sinicalypse]

fux that. I love blackalicious. saw em at ziggys in winston-salem a few years back. one of the best shows ive ever been to. They put it down. I was up front dancin and the two backup dancers/singers dragged me up on stage to dance/vibe with em. We chilled after wards and smoked a lil, some of the chillest open minded and intelligent hip op artists i've ever met. +1000 for blackalicious.

 

edit: this was directed at mr. beardsnes's post :)

 

ps- yes

 

yeah, gab doesnt move around and do all that hands in the air shit, or at least too much... he stands htere and snaps liek veins are coming out of his neck... he's all about the rap.

 

i mean, i can get some people being like after awhile those d00ds songs sound kind of hte same and whatnot, but by and large they've got dope production and they snap their asses off on some ill fast styles and they can hold it down live, altho gab live these days isnt quite what it was years back, but yeah... lateef is fucking taking off tho shit he got nominated a grammy for a song he did with fatboy slim called wonderful night.

 

speaking of dumbass me and not carpe dieming life and all...

 

i missed hte fucking mighty underdogs (lateef, gab, and some producer from somewhere else) in chicago on feb 6th... ;alkjf'dsfg ;daskj;sldkf;daskfasdkfdas; lfk;dslf

 

henceforth why my internet presence is coming back full speed, i need to not miss shows anymore

[Guest weed]

...calm down, its okay :)

[khov]

i'm sorry but i stop reading after "its 1:45 in the morning". Seriously have you tried to make it shorter, you know like short to the point ? ever heard about Haiku, poetry ? that said, i like long posts.

 

[Guest Helper ET]

talk to ME syniclpe you arrogfant asshole manfigure of a penis face which is red and embarrases atr yopu8r own gayity whioch is combined not only by your confusio but by your willingness to say yes to such things as a gay penis in your fqace which is probably all your qre used to being next to saing as im sure you are in a constant tsat eof beiungind over tin an attempt to suck on your own penis becasue no gitrl would ever talk to you becasue for one you are a gay, for two you are such a fairy that the second ypou, opened your mouth, fairy gayness pours out of your mouth anf flows into the mouths of the innocent and yet you continue to blabber anand falbber just like that fat ass tissue stuck to your ass hbecasue yoou are too busy spending all your time on the gayternet trying to convince people that your are actually more of a fairy than you actaully are in reality in turn, making you an even BIGGER fairy than you were when you started, making you the bigest fairy ive come across so far, and ive come across a good amount of faires, and trust me, you tsake the cake