@crewunB is an army…f@!k that, a navy…
I want to begin this blog by thanking all of the folk out there across this country and even a head or two overseas who have shown the crew love. We appreciate and cherish the support, and we love you all back. Trust us, we WILL NOT forget the good people who have been down with our movement since the Genesis. When we shine, you shall shine as well.
My next shout is to my team. @crewunB, take a bow while the applause button stretches out twice a Vine in length. We had a pretty damn good week, didn’t we? Heavens yes we did. I love the excitement that arises when a fresh batch of tees hits the streets like Blue Magic A-1 heroin on the west side of Harlem in ’72. Of course, we keep the a la carte game on smash 24/7/365. You add your color effects to our assortment of designs and we give it back to you on a tee or a sweatshirt of any color, custom fresh to match the flyest Nikes of your choosing. But the focus right now is on our newest release, our classic “the unbearables” black logo on white tee, a clutch move during the dog days of summer. It’s a guaranteed head turner and conversation spark wherever you go. I can’t forget the miniature @crewunB logo on the right shoulder blade; that’s our own bit of uniqueness for the apparel game. If you don’t see the logo on the right shoulder it’s not @crewunB authentic.
We got the block on the lock, the trunk stay locked. Got the Glock on cock, the block stay hot…
If I were a Major League ball player, Erykah Badu “Danger” would be my music when I go to the plate to hit (every MLB batter has his own custom music snippet when he leaves the on-deck circle to bat). I can see all the colored folk in the stadium just going dumb e’y time my name is called and Ms. Badu rocks the speakers. That bass line smacks harder than an old school black grandma when you fuck up in the church house, feel me? In real life, my favorite at-bat song is from Michael Bradley of the Cleveland Indians, a young brother on the brink of superstar status. He comes out to Rich Homie Quan’s “Walk Thru.” That nigga got like six hits in a three game series off us, including two long homers. Every time he came up to the plate I got scared.
In this world of liberation, it’s so easy to forget…
That it’s so nice to have a man around to lend a helping hand, you can bet (Yes you can, baby.)
When I was young, my mama used to say, boy, a woman’s like a flower, with love on her you shower.
Ever since that day…her words never went away,
I always will remember… to treat my baby tender…
You’ll find a heart that you’ve always been looking for…how could anybody ask for much more?
Now I like opening doors, picking up her hanky off the floor. (Treat her like a lady, treat her like a lady.)
She’s a bad son of a gun; I’m her love and Don Juan. (Treat her like a lady, treat her like a lady.)
Ollie Woodson (RIP) and the Temptations said it so well that I’d be a fool to try and further explain the vibe. But I’m gon speak for all the good fellas out here by saying, ladies, if you have a good man in your life who treats you like a lady and takes care of your needs, treat that nigga right. Be loyal to that nigga. Be completely loyal. All y’all do 24/7 on the blogs is complain how niggas ain’t shit and ask where the good men are, but when you get one in your life, you treat him like he’s one of the ain’t shit niggas. Y’all gotta stop that. You block your blessings that way. You think the Lord gon keep throwing good men your way for you to shit on? That’s putting you directly on a course to being a miserable old woman, ornery and alone. Look around your family; I’m sure you can spot one or two. Wanna be like Auntie Sara or old cousin Pam? 50, 60, or older and STILL angry than a MF, mad at the world? Keep it up, and you’ll be them in 30 years, you old trifling hoe. Count your blessings. Don’t block them.
Send all love/hate mail to firstname.lastname@example.org, as always. Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday, where I spew rhetoric that would make seasoned vets at the Kremlin blush and scream Perestroika rather than go against my squad. That includes @themisterceizzo, @CraftyLefty57, and @crewunB. Follow them too. Our new tees (another shameless but true plug) are wavy like crispy new white on whites; cop a couple to go with your fresh new steps. I’m out on the last ferry to Green Island with Reggie Noble and ole Uncle Quilly.
I’m actively searching for the caramel/borderline light skinned girl from the long since disbanded female R&B group Lyric. No one really remembers the short lived trio, but their lead single “Young and Sexy” featuring Loon was my shit back in like ’03. Actually, it became my shit because it was on the soundtrack to NBA Live ’03, back when Live was preferred over 2K (long, long time ago). The game had Jason Kidd on the cover and the gameplay was top notch. Back to the soundtrack…it sold platinum plus, and helped set the now common trend of making amazing soundtracks to accompany games, along with GTA. Now, back to lil caramel/borderline light skin from the group Lyric...I swear I love her. I wonder if she’s still that damn fine a decade plus later…and, oh yeah, can either iTunes or Amazon Music get that “Young and Sexy” available for a brother? While you’re at it, get that Steve Ivory feat Cru “Relax and Party” on mp3 too. Speaking of fine…
Showtime has Belly (and Belly 2, but no one cares) on its On Demand list RN. And when I’m speaking on fine and Belly at the same damn time, I’m speaking on that amazing chocolate goddess Taral Hicks. I swear I love me some Kesha. Oh, how I’d love to spread Hot Six Oil all over her body. Hey…Tommy Buns wasn’t my manz and them. As soon as that nigga got with that prophet nigga and his movement, I woulda slid straight TF in Kesha’s DMs. Please believe me.
Speaking of OD fine…
If you haven’t seen the promo pic for Nicki Minaj’s “Anaconda” single (I’m guessing it’s a single), go on ‘head and stop reading this tweet RTF now and Google that shit. Thank me later.
Friends…how many of us have them? Friends…ones we can depend on?
If you didn’t know, and you probably didn’t, 2NN, or Two Niggas and a Notepad, is myself and my brogod @themisterceizzo. 2NN is officially the name of our two man creative team, all under the 100 Blocks Stories/@crewunB/Cristiano Esteban umbrella. We write scripts, come up with off the wall ideas, burn infinite amounts of LOUD, and live our lives day by day, grinding hard toward our collective vision and goal. It doesn’t matter which of our cooperative or individual ventures go global first, we both eat. That’s a family thing. But I’m gonna take this opportunity to say that Christian Eaddy is good man on the brink of being a great man. He’s the black Voltron to @crewunB, one damn good parent and family man, the heart of BFC, and one heaven of a friend to me. In this era of my life, other than my bestie and ride or die Jose Ortiz, he is the only person to see me at my best as well as my absolute worst. I can honestly say that if it weren’t for Christian Eaddy on two separate occasions, I may not be on this earth writing this blog RN. He’s a blessing to so many people, my trusted creative partner, and I’m thankful to have him in my foxhole. He puts up with my much improved genius/psychotic neurosis, and helps to keep my head on a level playing field. I suppose I do the same for him in my own sordid way, though our ways of expressing what can’t really be expressed differ, if you can dig what I’m saying. Somehow, some way we been rocking like Smooth Operator for some time. Much love to my nigga. Y’all haven’t even seen the half of what we have in store.
Well folks, that’s all for tonight. In my opinion we’ve had a pretty good damn week. We dropped two fresh new blogs this week. We even threw you a throwback blog from my time with my blood cousin @iamdjgreen a few years ago. Then, to top it all off, we dropped a new flavor of theunbearablescrew tees on the masses today. Scoop a couple of them RTFN (that’s right the fidduck now if you didn’t know). Big ups to my nucca @TerrellMacklin, he already scooped a fresh one. You can catch me in one tomorrow, crispy then a new blue Big Face Benny hunnit. But, nothing less can be expected from a Don.
As always, send all love/hate mail to email@example.com. Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday, as well as my aforementioned brogod @themisterceizzo, the homie @CraftyLefty57, and the squadron, @crewunB. Catch me somewhere smack dead in the middle of Broadway and Ebony Junctions, mathematically precise to the decimal. Peace be unto you.
I need to stop bull shittin' and take my hand @ handicapping. I took UK vs the field back in December. As we saw last Monday, I was correct. My next bet...T. Jones will be an all star one day along with Davis and MKG. Hold me to it.
Big ups to B. Griner, but a DNA test may need to be in order. But I said that when I saw her as a frosh.
I have no idea what the appeal will say, but good ole boy Goddell did Seanny Payton greasy with the season misconduct. He always tries to make the max impact but just comes off mega OD. Goddell reminds me of Reverend Talley, in the same lineage of history's all time haters. Old school VUU can feel me.
Linsanity was a mere myth; an old wives' tale.
Reality: Carmelo makes upwards of 17-18 million a year. He's a career 24+ ppg career scorer. Someone tell Adidas to press up some more of those NY #7 authentics.
NFL merchandising is back with Team Nike. Christmas came early this tear.
DAY WHATEVER...STILL NO ZIMMERMAN ARREST. SORRY, TRAYVON. JUSTICE DOESN'T SEEM TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT YOUR OR MY LIFE.
Now to the music...
Yes, I'm slightly partial on the situation, but doesn't TM 103 get better every time you play it? Where would we be without Jeezy? Superfreak is killing the airwaves. Ladies love the Ne-Yo joint. I Do has already become a club classic, from what I hear. Track #13 is my stress reliever. I wish CTE woulda signed Meek. But I'll take Freddie Gibbs.
Millions of Minaj adorers were blessed with the release of her sophomore LP Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded. I took the time to listen to the rap half of the album...I can't fuck with that trendy pop shit. I will say that I'm still a fan of her hip hop shit. I Am Your Leader featuring Officer Ricky and Harlem's Greatest is the show stopper. All three murder the track. Beez in the Trap with Titi Boy, er um, 2 Chains is killing Hot 97 right now with the aforementioned track. Fellow Queens great Nasir Jones makes a guest appearance at Nicki's behest along with Young Jizzle on Champion, and they rock out. Of course YMCMB teammates Weezy and Aubrey Graham make guest appearances, as do R&B crooners Chris Breezy and Bobby "Tall Man" Valentino. The album wouldn't be complete without a swift kick to Kim Jones' surgically enhanced ass, via the track Stupid Hoe. The rap portion of the album is satisfying. You gotta ask your girl or girlfriend about the other shit.
Rumor is that the homie and G.O.A.T. Nas (I said it) will relocate to Mother Africa after the release of the Life is Good LP. Heard he's tired of Tio Sam fucking with his chicken. I'm with you God's Son. Guess we'll be neighbors.
Big ups to the homie Woozie Wooz and the Poor Man Music wave. Uptown til it's over. I'm done.
I'm still I'm the market for an affluent white girlfriend. Affluence is actually only preferred. Just come with your cape on.
Send all love/hate mail to firstname.lastname@example.org
Follow me on twitter @tymonday
I know you don’t love me. I’m not saying you hate me, but I know you don’t love me.
If this were a random MF or an enemy, it wouldn’t really be an issue. It would be customary and expected, essentially status quo. But when it comes from someone or persons you know, people you fuck with, it’s tough. When y’all ate free lunch and no frills meals together, the love was ironclad. But through life’s progression, things changed when one of you tasted success while the other struggled. And, even though your man blew and continued to treat you as famz, you secretly resented him. You resented his success and acclaim. But, deep down, you resented yourself for not doing shit with your life while your Day One endured his or her odyssey to greatness. What’s truly sad is the fact that you were there to see his or her long path, all the time they put into their craft, the way they chased their dream endlessly. You know they deserve everything they’ve achieved, and more. But you still hate. How dare you? That’s merely a rhetorical question. At the end of the day, life teaches us that the oft quoted cliché and classic R&B song from the Persuaders hold true: [it’s a] thin line between love and hate. I learned from the brilliant Professor Eric King that love and hate are not opposites, contrary to the misbeliefs of many. Love and hate are both emotions, essentially one in the same. That’s why the thin line theory holds true. Relations, both plutonic and intimate, can quickly or in time progress from love to hate for many reasons. And yes, that line is thin. People love you, seemingly, when you do things to benefit them. Cut that pipeline off or strangle it so it only drips instead of pours and you’ll see how fast the hate comes. But let’s revisit my original point. It’s sad how your own folk will hate your success, even though y’all supposed to be folk. But the hate sends a clear and concise message. They’re just upset because you went forth and did something greater than they could ever imagine, much less emulate or exceed. They’re angry because they can’t be you, instead of admiring and cheering on your accomplishment. It’s a damn shame your own folk often time can’t cheer you on because your success shines a bright beam of light on their shortcomings. This isn’t an underlying agenda in my words; I’m not specifically referring to anyone in my life, although I did feel a bit of shade from some of my so-called “folk” when I finally did something with my life by unleashing 100 Blocks Stories on the masses. But I expected that. What’s sad is that some of these folk have achieved noted success in their lives. But oh well. I supported them when they had their triumphs. It doesn’t hurt me that the love hasn’t been returned. It just pushes me to work even harder. I know you don’t love me…
It’s a crying shame to see a 40something woman who’s as dumb as a high school freshman, but I’m watching it happen in real time. She’s got a nigga who blatantly flaunts his other women in her face, doing things like calling them right TF in front of her. There have been times when she’s been in his neighborhood and random women have approached her, ready to fight over this nigga. She cries, she complains, then she goes right back to the nigga, like a wet puppy returning indoors after being caught out in the rain. Hey, if you choose to be a dumb bitch and let a nigga run all over you, by all means, do you. But don’t hit my line asking, “What’s wrong with me?” What’s wrong with you? You’re the textbook definition of a dumb bitch. You let a trifling nigga kick you square in the ass whenever he feels like it, and you accept it like you have no options. I don’t feel sorry for ignorant, weak individuals, male or female. I’m not the one to call for sympathy. I’m gon tell you what time it is on the straight up, unabridged and without bias. If you can’t handle that, don’t hit my line. I’m not a groupie here to reassure your fragile feelings and make you feel good. My world is comprised of stark reality. I make no apologies for speaking the truth. Bottom line: you’re a fucking idiot, and you deserve all the agony you’re receiving.
P.S. All of the preceding scenarios mentioned in this blog are merely for entertainment purposes, not specifically aimed at anyone. The personalization was simply used for effect. Yeah, that’s my story…
And for the record, the opposite of both love and hate is indifference/apathy.
Send all love/hate mail to email@example.com. Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday, where I have absolutely no filter. Also follow my family, @themisterceizzo, @CraftyLefty57, and @crewunB. We follow back, unless you’re some type of fucking weirdo. We’ve got a fresh new shipment of tees arriving this week, so place your preorder now. And we’ve still got the a la carte apparel you need. Just @ us. We’re also on Instagram at theunbearablescrew. Until next time, wrap it up and say no to drugs, unless you know her like that, your pull out game is on Iraq, and it’s that sweet cheeba.
100 Blocks Stories ORDER YOURS TODAY!
If you can capture their hearts the mind will follow.
That holds true for a lot of things in this world: musicians, actors, athletes; once you’ve gained a certain level of attention from the hearts of your audience you will be able to get your Moses on and drag them across the burning sands of Egypt. Don’t believe me? Even O.J Simpson still has fans that will buy whatever rendition of the truth he chooses to offer up whenever his bank account or, in his current condition, commissary account is running lower than he would like. If you give them enough to hook ‘em they’ll stay hooked. That’s not the topic of this here blog, just an opening thought.
What if you woke up tomorrow, kissed your signicant other good morning, took a piss, did your a.m workouts or whatever else it is you do, grabbed your car keys and headed out the door for the last time as a member of the 99% of the country who was not totally, utterly, stinking RICH? What if purchasing that lottery ticket with the change from your morning coffee was what you needed to change your life, and get you everything you want, $812 million after taxes. The lottery is at the highest payout its ever been, and by some miracle, twist of fate, or sheer dumb luck you have the sole winning ticket. Suddenly everything you want to do is possible, every bill you have is gone, every bill everybody in your family has is gone, every possible tangible dream you’ve ever dreamt has moved into the realm of “POSSIBLE”. Only one question remains: “what do you do first?”
I personally think that fans should have more control over the movies being remade nowadays. I understand that at the end of the day its up to the big movie companies and how they decide to spend their money, but come on? Aren’t the movies for us? The consumers? And if the movies are supposed to be for us why don’t we get a chance to vote whether or not they should be made. As connected as this world is by all platforms of social media why do some movies get remade ‘Total Recall’? ‘RoboCop’? but we don’t get cult classics like ‘Demolition Man’ or ‘Action Jackson’? Come on man. I’m saying. Maybe enough of us aren’t complaining loud enough. Shit they made 3 Expendable movies.
Ever find yourself asking the question, “what the hell is wrong with these people?” Really? Think of your typical day at work, no matter who you work with you are guaranteed a ‘WTF’ moment or two, that’s just human nature. But then again does a crazy person know that they are crazy? What that have to do with ‘the price of tea in China?’ (as my father would often say) Well, ever stop to wonder if you were the one people were looking at when the question of “what the hell is wrong with the person?” is asked. Think about it..
Just a few tidbits of my thought-scape, dripping from my dread clad head. Hopefully I’ve asked enough random questions throughout this blog to get some answers from you folk. Get at us, we love to read your comments and opinions. Be sure to be on the lookout for unBearable Bloggers @TyMonday, @CraftyLefty57 and I’m @TheMisterCeizzo aka the guy in the unBearable Shirt. Send all love/hate and whatever other type of mail you want to firstname.lastname@example.org. Follow us on twitter @crewunb (we follow back) and check us out on instagram: theunbearablescrew. Our signature logo tee returns in black & whitavailable 7/24, don't sleep. & As always #beunbearable
We go right to left, left to right. If you fight to the death, what’s left to fight?”
At times I sit back with a half a hundred sack. I take flight into the strata, and then I leave this solar system. When I settle down, I sit and spin the world on one finger. I wonder how a father could not love his only child, his own namesake. I wonder how could a mother smoke and drink throughout her pregnancy, knowing she’s carrying a future king or queen. I wonder how this country could have a surplus of food yet allow children starve every day. But in reality, these aren’t rhetorical questions. They have answers. Ultimately, there is a single answer. This is an imperfect world. Bad things happen every day, all over the globe. But, at the end of the day, everything comes down to whether you are a glass half full or glass half empty type of person. If you only see the bad in life, there’s a pretty good chance that you’ll always overlook the good. Believe it or not, for every bad thing we see, hear about, or endure, there are many good deeds taking place all over. Many go unmentioned. Good news doesn’t have that allure bad news does, so it’s often unheard or overlooked. But this life, this world isn’t as bad as the picture television or pessimists paint it to be. I see so much good every day, and I refuse to be and think like so many nightmare holders I know. #lifeisgood
I’m from what I assume to be the minority of people who aren’t under the presumption that every single aspect of life is about them. I don’t take myself too seriously. I’m not afraid to laugh at myself, nor am I ashamed of admitting to my many flaws and imperfections. I realize, as astute and educated as I am, that I may have the incorrect answer from time to time, whether it be trivial or strategic. I am and have always been open to criticism, understanding that another set of eyes may spot a blemish I may have overlooked. What scares me is that our culture has begun to travel on the complete opposite train of thought. Every idiot in the streets believes he or she has all the MF answers, irrespective of the topic. No one can take a shred of criticism, even if it’s dead accurate. It’s so ridiculously out of hand. Ignorance is at a level that has become quite scary. What’s scary is the fact that knowledge has taken a complete back seat. It’s one thing not to know, it’s another thing to not even want to know. I’m not the pastor, so I’ll stop there. But damn, some of you MF are zoo certified monkeys. Go climb a tree.
There’s a borderline disturbing trend with youngn’s these days of recording altercations with their smart phones. Recording fights has become the standard for teens, and has been this way for a couple years now. The other day in a town in Bergen County, New Jerz, three barely adult idiots recorded themselves sexually assaulting a past intoxicated and unconscious 15 year old. The three idiots showed the recording around the hood like O-Dog’s convenience store double homicide security footage. So, not only did the recording provide evidence of a crime, it also simultaneously became various child pornography charges. Those three boys are through. I’m not making any statement with regard to morals because clearly their offense was felonious and deplorable, borderline heinous. What I’m saying is that the recording makes it a slam dunk in the courtroom. Those boys may never see the light of day. That child pornography could make it quiet for them…and they deserve it. I know I’m old AF, but in my time, we damn sure wouldn’t have recorded any type of dirt. When I was at the height of my hustle and MySpace was jumping, I refused to join. That was the most absurd shit possible I used to say whenever my lil mami back then used to beg me to join. I did my dirt on the low and on my lonely. That’s my advice to any street upstart out there. And oh yeah, stay up out them cop cars and camera lenses. And don’t ever tell. Get yours.
Send all love/hate mail to email@example.com Follow me on the Twitter @tymonday, as well as my brogods @themisterceizzo and @CraftyLefty57. Make sure you follow our team, @crewunB. We have a fresh re-up of white classic Unbearables Crew logo tees available 7/24, so you better scoop three while they’re available. We still have the a la carte game on grizzly, so go on ‘head and put a fly color way on one of our legendary designs and let us bring your tee to life. Until next time, y’all, it’s time to shake a leg and get up in the wind.