MNR: Chico’s Bail Bonds
NYC Legendary ‘90s/‘00s Cheeba Spots Roll Call:
Branson, the 99 cent store on 145 & Broadway, New Lots In BK, 117 & 2nd Ave #eastside, the viper spot on 116 & Lex #eastside, 119 & 2nd (you know the building middle of the block) #eastside, 112 & 2nd beside Waala #eastside (most raids & reopening ever) Gun Hill Rd #BXNYC, the dread chocolate spot on 121 & Lenox, my trap on 1400 Jesup apt 2C #BXNYC, any project plaza or staircase...and to all others unnamed and long forgotten. Thank you.
The last couple months, I’ve been very vanilla with this blog. I’ve dealt with music (as always), love (BFT/TT forever+1day), errday culture, and a splash of sports and politics. Enough to keep the drink cool. But, truth be told, I miss the old Monday from @IAMDJGREEN blog era. The classic #UnB Monday. That ignorant Monday. That disrespectful Monday. That mulatto Monday, half Black, half Ricky Retardo Monday. That eat the last big piece of chicken your mother was saving for daddy Monday. That, “don’t bring that fat nigga back here” Monday (facts). That fuck you, your auntie, and five MF who look like you Monday. Well...tell a friend to tell a friend. He’s baaaaaaack. One night only. Get your Swedish Fish (I detest popcorn), keep the lighting at an ambient level (strictly LED bulbs), gon on ‘head and twist you one of them left hands up, and enjoy. Oh yeah, buckle up. It may get a bit bumpy on this road to mainland Monday World.
Who do you call to drop a dime if you know the head principal is doing the wild thing with the assistant principal? I’m just asking for a concerned colleague. I don’t drop dimes. Ever. But do remember, just because I hate you don’t make you a player. Let me know tho. I’ll pass the message on to the concerned.
If you Saints fans don’t shut theeeeeee fidduck up, stop complaining about that damn NFC Championship game, and get ready for the Conference Tourneys/Big Dance and/or
pitchers and catchers reporting to Spring Training. Go take a long walk off a short pier. Yes. You got jobbed. Big time. But you lost. It wasn’t the last play of the game. You still had the chance to write your own ticket. You failed. Too bad. I seem to recall those same zebras missing an obvious face mask on Goff that woulda put the Rams 1st & Goal from the 1 late in a position to get the dub. Refs fuck up everyday, B. Y’all just mad you lost out on it. I guarantee if the shoe was on the other foot y’all wouldn’t be asking Goodell for a mulligan. Exactly. So just shut the fuck up and live with it. You be aight. Tough titties, but somebody gotta suck ‘em. Who dat? Lmao. Fuck the Saints.
Big ups and love eternal to my favorite Yankee of our five championship run ‘96-‘09, the legendary Mariano Rivera on his UNANIMOUS induction to the MLB Hall of Fame. He’s the first player ever to be unanimously inducted. He’s without doubt the best to ever do it and I couldn’t wait for this day to come. Anyone tryna head to Cooperstown for the event? I’m down. Been once. I know where to cop the room and errthang. We out. #42NYY
Is Pac alive? Smh. I guess it actually is a valid question. I don’t know how or when in the hell it became valid, but I reckon it is. If enough niggas ask the same question enough times, it somehow mythically becomes valid these days. AND Suge’s son outchea testilying to any nigga with a record button on his smart phone ain’t helping to extinguish the rumors. I’ll tell you like dis herre. I was a Pac fan since “Same Song” off Digital Underground’s Sons of the P album. That’s basically day one. Before 2Pacalypse Now. The Pac I knew wasn’t the type to stay quiet...on anything. He had to let shit be known. Go through his history. Look for yourself. No need for me to go in depth. But he had to be heard. So...he’s just been quiet the past 22+ years??? Fuck outta here. And don’t hit me with the he got low in fear of his life mantra. Day one Pac right here. The last thing Pac was afraid of was dying. “My only fear of death is coming back reincarnated...” So please. Miss me with the fantasies and let the great late veteran live. RIP Makaveli the Don.
Big ups to the movie Black Panther on its Screen Actors Guild award. It’s the awards where peers determine the winner, not critics. That means a lot to someone like me. In addition, the first Marvel movie to feature a Black superhero has also received several Academy Awards nominations. Nothing equates to basking in the glory of Black Excellence. Don’t undercut this, y’all. This is major. In my novice opinion, BP stands a good chance of at least one Oscar. Here’s to Black Excellence. About damn time we got a legitimate chance.
Crack is the most fucked up of drugs. It’s a sucker’s bet. You never win. They say the first high is the apex; you spend the rest of your highs unsuccessfully chasing that initial blast. You lose everything in time: your money, your possessions, your teeth. It’s not like back when ‘80s era. MF seldom OD and die off crack nowadays and for sometime now. Credit that to weaker product, from Central America to the nigga adding ammonia to your jums. Naw. Nowadays you just lose errthang. You just hang around and exist. Lord willing, you finally bottom out for the 50-11th time and give it up. You reclaim your life one day at a time. Many of these type folk exist. I’m related to some. My pops is one. Respect. Unfortunately, the man I actually referred to as my real pops is bad off into crack, and it doesn’t look like he’s anywhere close to recovery road. My step pop gave my mother everything she lacked in Tyrone Sr: stability, love, and notgettingherasswhoopededness. He was aight to me. He had his moments of bitchassness early on. But he never put his hands on me. As I got older, we became close. After college, really close. He held my moms down. Whenever I was home down VA we had great times. Then my mom got sick. Shit went downhill from there. He started falling off. There were signs I ignored. That’s on me. Then he started doing my mom dirty, so I suspected. I wanted to step to Goliath. My mom always told me to chill. Then she passed. Then he really showed his stripes. I’ll leave it at that. Even as a Christian, it’d be very easy to hate him, all things considered. But at the end of the day, I still have to leave it all with God, for my sanity and my salvation. The Lord gon do what he do. It’s not up to me. I tried to do my best to love him. He knows that, regardless of how many mistruths he perpetuates. What’s done is done. Vaya con Dios.