Neva Trussed A Big Butt & A Smile...

Yo, after much ado about something (BS and tech issues), I'd finally gotten around to putting down an entry, when fuckin Safari had to go and crash. So before I turn around and become a Luddite, here's my abridged entry.

Two weekends ago (when I was sposed to have done my first log, cough cough), me and the fam headed deep into Outer Bumblefuck aka Southern Maryland to get out BBQ-n-beach on. It was a long and perilous journey--ok, just 2 really uncomfortable hours after several of waiting to leave, a near car accident, and getting yelled at for not navigating in shotgun--but after driving past miles (or should I say acres) of farmland and the future site of the Confederate Memorial Park, we arrived at our destination, Point Lookout. And, yo, to my total surprise, even this far out just about every beachgoer had a tan of the permanent variety; in fact, I'd say that, if I hadn't wimped out of the pickup soccer game going on next to our gazeebo, I'd have heard about as much Spanish that day as Ant and Jef are hearing now. After assisting on the grill/making sure I'd get top-choice on food, grubbing, getting my musical selection thoroughly gritted on by most in attendance (hey, I had to bring something PG, close-minded bamas!), and fake remembering relatives I son forgot the names of, me and my big cousin 'De headed towards the water with the lil youngins in tow. Unfortunately, though, it was such a nice day that I guess the jellyfish had also decided to have a family get togeter at the Point, quickly crushing our hopes of taking a dip unless we had a deathwish. Still, determined to enjoy the surf, me and big blood headed to rent a canoe, but were once again without luck, despite the greatest pretzel-logic spitting effort ever targeted at a teenage National Park employee this summer, hands down. At least the long walk back to the gazeebo provided enough comedy (me be startled by and attacking an already dead snake), conversation, and enjoyment ("alternative barbecue") to make uo for the trek. Overall, I'd have to say it was a quality day.

On the flipside of not-exactly family outtings, me and my homeboy Tim slid out to his former stomping grounds of Bodymore, Murderland to catch the inimitable Spank Rock at the Ottobar last Friday night. Hops and barley, y'all. The crowd wasn't as large as it should have been, but it was diverse and ready to dance, and filled out a bit towards the headliner. My former NYU bull, renaissance man and all-round good guy Chip Martucci was in attendance as well (not that that should be surprising, since he's down with BBC), and grabbed us from a meandering bar convo to check out the opening band, Kudu. The trio definitely got the crowd's blood starting to flow, with vocalist Sylvia's sultry sangin' driven by dirty-meaning-good synth lines and heavy drums on a positively retro vibe. Not long after, Naeem-n-them hit the stage on a mission. Spank had defintely stepped his game up, borrowing some micstand maneuvers from what looked like the JB catalog, as he blazed through a short-yet-invigorating set of machine-gun witticisms accompanied by DJs XXXchange and Chris Rockwell and--arguably, the additional headliners--his perennial djembe drummers and West African style/syncronized step/slow-wind dancers. Their was nuff show highlights (anybody with video hosting links, get at me), but his lead single...ahem..."Put That Pussy on Me," might possibly have taken the proverbial cake, specially when a fair lassy from the audience got on stage to serve Spank with some simulated cowgirl action. All I'm sayin is that mellow needs to put out a DVD in addition to an album, for real.

Today, Imma hit up the Provisions Library. They're currently hosting month-and-some-change-long hiphop exhibit and forum entitled, "Change Methods," with a boatload of resources on display, including visual art by Kehinde Wiley and Iona Rozeal Brown, a ton of videos and documentaries available including Just to Get a Rep which I peeped last week, a couple audio mixes, and more books and articles on hip-hop than I've probably ever seen in one place. Definitely fresh, dope, and things of that sort, and the film screenings are a great place politic with local heads, since DC ain't exactly known for its Hiphop scene.

Well, that's it for now, kiddies. Next time I won't be so up in my own Kool Aid. Heading for NYC tomorrow, so I promise I'll lace y'all again beforehand, probably pertaining to the free stuff poppin off a-yonder.