The lyrics to ‘Birthday Party’ by Grandmaster Flash. They crept into my head from my laptop, and I had to rewind to check I hadn’t heard wrong. I hadn’t. This really is a low point of rap:
Overtime, overtime, rock your mind
Melle Mell and I’m here to say, I was born on the 15th day of May
And I’m mister Ness and I love myself, and my date of birth is November the 12th
I wanna tell you that my name is Raheem, my date of birth is February 13th
I’m Kid Creole and I’m on the scene, I was born on February 19th
I’m Cowboy and you must remember, I was born on the 20th of September
And Grandmaster Flash is here to stay ’cause he was born on new years day
Now we got something else that we want you to say
Just shout out your birthday
But to play this game, and to rock this rhyme
Shout the date and the month out one of a kind
Say 2 4 6 8 everybody shout out your birthday
Say what’s that date?
Say what’s that date?
Now to keep these piggies movin’ right along, shout out the month that you were born
I say “What’s that month?”
I say “what’s that month?”
I used to want to shout and die, to stamp on sharpened pencils out of shame for the human race whenever I saw Justin Bieber throw his way-cool V sign:
*SHUDDER*
But then I realised, the only reason he was V-ing the world the whole time was because his fingers were all crampled up from playing with his Sooty puppet. Poor little lad.
Or I could think about Allen Kruse, charter boat captain being ‘trained’ by BP to skim for oil.
His business had come to a screeching halt after the April 20 oil spill.
About 7 a.m., after a BP training meeting, he climbed into the wheelhouse of his 46-foot charter boat and ended his worry, his frustration and his anger with a single bullet to the head.
“Nothing was easy working with BP. Everything was hard, and it consumed him. He wasn’t crazy,” said his wife, Tracy, 41, sitting outside the couple’s home in Foley on Thursday.
“You know, I don’t think he was even thinking about his family,” Tracy said. “I think he wanted out of the chaos and what he called ‘madness’ of the whole thing.”
Do you wanna go? Do you wanna go?
Yes.
My hair is getting this way. My mandolin playing is lagging.
Give me time.
MAMA’S IN THE KITCHEN, BAKING UP A PIE!
The joy I get from Rory Gallagher grows by the year.
Like my hair.
I had no idea, until just now, that Bobby Brown caused Peter Andre.
Andre was discovered on the Australian TV talent show New Faces in 1990. Australian music guru and Melodian Records boss Molly Meldrum was one of the judges on the show and signed Andre up after seeing him do a Bobby Brown impression.
Is this, the shame of it, what tipped Brown over the edge into drug hell? Is there nothing Andre can do to help? It’s odd to think of an effect owing an apology to its own cause: “you are responsible for my coming into being, and for this I can only apologise.” At the very least, Andre and Brown need to sit round a table and start apportioning the blame. This isn’t something I can do for them.
HISTORICAL NOTE
In 1995, Brown was arrested at a Disney World nightclub, after he and two of his entourage attacked a man, and the man’s ear was partially torn off. Brown urinated in the police car, wrote obscenities on the car seat with a pen, and settled out of court with his victim. I was wondering how this incident might have affected the eartorn man’s appreciation of Brown’s music. Has he ever found himself driving along through Canyonlands National Park, finding a tune on the car stereo, tapping his fingers on the wheel, then the DJ comes on and says: “that was the Quiet Storm remix of Rock Wit’cha, which peaked at number 7 on the Hot 100 in 1988″ and the man’s torn ear starts hurting and the DJ says “more great Bobby Brown tunes from 1988 coming up” and the man goes giddy and drives into a tree. Would he be able to sue Brown for damages to his Buick? It would seem reasonable. Brown could pass the costs onto Andre.
From the comments beneath the Telegraph obituary:
This guy could have really written a book! Instead he kept the books.
Posted by Julie Rogers on March 24, 2008 11:45 PM
A revealing snap of Chad Kroeger at work in the studio:
Or who he is?
Or has he just got the drum beat from Kings of the Wild Frontier going over and over and over and over and over in his head? (Because I know that I have, now that I’ve mentioned it…..)
Very excited about Steven Seagal’s latest movie project. Directed, co-written by, and starring Mr Seagal himself. It’s called Prince of Pistols, and I am intrigued and delighted by the latest casting information on IMDb:
Steven Seagal … John Prince
B.B. King … (in talks)
KoKo Taylor … (in talks)
NB. He’s also the executive producer. Four salaries! (and the decision to do the ghastly Prince of Pistols / John Prince reverse pun made so much easier).
Update: thanks to one of my readers, a Mr C.T. Onions for pointing out my ’saleries’ spelling blunder, and for recommending I try Steven Seagal’s Lightning Bolt energy drink with the added Policosanols, in particular the Asian Experience flavour. Thanks C.T. – I’m onto it!
Yes, that is exactly what I say! What better way to celebrate the 11th of February than with a quiz? I can’t think of one! And here it is: WhoTube? So stop whatever you’re doing – put down that bacon sandwich, close the cellar doors, get out of that hot tub, wipe your mouth, park your bus, take a deep breath and tell me: who is this smart-casual individual, snapped mid-performance on Youtube?
Prize for first correct answer tattooed onto Rihanna’s leg: £0.73
So get calling!
