Euphoria

MUSIC

HIP HOP REVIEWS

18-05-2024 16:38 GMT

Music by indie artist, Chingy on YouTube | Spotify

Chingy

"Nu Beginnings"
Hip Hop


Euphoria

I walked in on my boss shooting ping-pong balls out of her lady garden this morning. It was really awkward but she was very aloof about the whole thing. She said: “Ah it’s you, come on in and take a seat”. I entered cautiously, still trying to process what I had just seen or if I had in fact seen what I had just seen. There were ping-pong balls everywhere, so many; so I knew I wasn’t seeing things – I had definitely seen what I saw. 

I generally don’t talk to other human beings because I’m way too intelligent for them to understand the words that are coming out of my mouth most of the time. Not all the time, but most of the time. 100% of the time I totally understand what they are saying but 50% of the time it’s sh*te and 50% of the other 50% of the time it makes absolutely no sense to me - I understand what they are saying, but it’s totally nuts to me. And I’m not anti-social, I promise. Like I said before, I’m just really intelligent. 

If you think that’s the most annoying and arrogant thing you’ve ever heard a person say, you’d better stop reading now. That’s not the most arrogant thing I’ve ever said. In fact, I don’t think it’s arrogant at all and I think it's a little arrogant of you to think it's arrogant. I haven't always been like this, I’m not the same person I was when I started out as a writer. I’ve grown a lot and become a much better person. It's all thanks to my boss, the same lady who was shooting ping-pong balls out of her ... err ... her ... love tunnel. 

You see, when I first started out I hated Everything and Everybody. It was a very general hate, not necessarily directed at anything or anyone specific - everything was just sh*t as far as I was concerned, and everyone sucked. I was really focused but people always wanted to talk – often about nothing. Before long everyone in the office was talking behind my back. 

My boss called me into her office one day. I went in and sat on the chair that had been prepared for me, opposite her desk. Right in front of me on the desk, there was a calendar and a jar of milk, carefully arranged so that it was the only thing I could see. She kept on typing on her computer and let me stare at them for a while. I could tell she wasn’t actually typing anything because she was peeking at me the whole time with her lips pressed together and her glasses hanging at the tip of her nose. She looked as though my presence disgusted her. 

After a few minutes, she stopped typing and took off her glasses. And started to explain what I was looking at.  She said: “You see… milk is good ... but after a few days it must go bad. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s good. People may suck sometimes, but it doesn’t change the fact that they’re still good people deep down inside, whether they know it or not.”

I’m lactose intolerant so that was a really bad analogy for me. Just last week I almost strangled my intern for bringing me a latte. But I totally got what she was saying nevertheless. 

She went on to explain: “If your life sucks, and I know it does, now that you hate everything; have you ever wondered what it might be like if you flipped your attitude over on its head and approached things with love instead of resentment?” 

I replied stubbornly: “that would be absolutely insane, why would I do that? I would do no such thing, just tell them all to leave me the f*ck alone and stop talking to me". 

She stood up and sighed; frustrated and impatient. She walked over and gestured repeatedly while saying “stand up”. I stood up. I had never really noticed how much taller than me she was until then. I was eye to eye with her… em... her ... emm … bazookas (that’s her breasts). It was really uncomfortable because I was standing really close and trying not to look at them but they were pointing right at me. They were so perky and big. I suddenly got a whiff of baby powder and cigarettes; so I knew I was standing way too close. I got scared, as if she might have detected that I’d just accidentally sniffed her … em… her ... em … her fun sacks (that’s her breasts too). I quickly started to take a step backwards so I could look up at her face. All of a sudden she grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face right into her cleavage. I struggled frantically, I wasn’t sure what was happening, but after a few seconds my heart stopped racing and I realized nothing bad was actually happening, in fact it was all good. I’ve had many fantasies but I’ve never ever imagined anything that awesome. I relaxed completely. I felt like a baby again. There was a rapid influx of pleasant feelings into my entire body – love, peace, contentment, forgiveness, joy, thanksgiving, and a sense of release. I was relaxed, more relaxed than I had ever been my whole life. I guess her job was done - she let me go and pushed me away, saying: “You’d better not have enjoyed that. Now get out, I need a fag (that’s a cigarette - not a man 😊)”. I’ve never hated anyone since. 

Fast forward 10 months; and I’m like Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan with a pen and a pad. I hit you with a left, hit you with a right, hit you with an uppercut and by the end of it all there’s so much bodily fluids in the air you’d think you were at a baby shower (that’s an orgy). Did you get it? Ladies getting showered with baby batter? I can’t believe I had to explain that. Okay buckle up now, we’ve got a long way to go; and I guarantee you I’ll make you squeeze that noodle of yours every step of the way. 

See, there were a lot of things going on in my life when I first started out as a writer, and I had absolutely no control over what was happening to me. Every day it was a different story, and it was always a surprise. I never saw it coming and I never could have anticipated it – it was almost like magic, but bad magic. It was almost as if nothing good could ever happen in my life. But at least now I had learned to love. At least I was no longer quick to blame this person or that person for this event or that event. That was a win bigger than I had known at the time. 

I went on to have several of such meetings with my boss, not just the one I mentioned. There were in fact 10. Each time she presented me with 2 items and at the end she had somehow taught me a lesson that changed my entire life for the better. Today was the 10th and final meeting, "the grand finale" as she called it. Hence, the ping-pong balls. But we'll talk about that a little bit later, or maybe in another article. And then you'll know why I was confident enough to say the arrogant things I said at the beginning of this article – so that you too can learn, and go on to say arrogant things to the people in your life, who you will no longer be able to engage in small talk with owing to your superior intelligence. 

The following month, I was staggering into the office early in the morning after a late night out with my two good friends Mary and Jack. My head was still spinning a little bit so I was hoping I could just sneak into my office and nobody would talk to me.

I started to tiptoe past my boss’s office when the door opened suddenly. She was wearing a really low cut yellow top. My mind flashed back to our last meeting and I got severely aroused IMMEDIATELY. But she looked really stern, like I had done something wrong again. She gestured with one finger and said “come here”. I followed her into the office. She shut the door really hard and said: “Sit down”. I sat. 

She said: “Your writing sucks balls ... It’s terrible”. 

I was hurt really bad because I literally thought I was at the top of my game at the time. 

She continued: “What’s the key to success?” 

I was still a little drunk so I scratched my head and just blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. I said: “Em, I don’t know? Eem, hard work?” 

She exclaimed: “Jesus Christ! I’ve hired another moron!! Moron!!!” 

She pointed at the items in front of me on the table, which I hadn’t noticed at the time, and said: “What’s that in front of you?” 

It was a hammer. 

She said “well don’t just look at it, pick it up. I’ve got stuff to do today don’t waste my time”. 

Then she pointed at the item next to it and said: “What’s that?” 

It was a really big wooden boat. There was a figurine of a man with a long white beard in front of it. 

I said “I don’t know? A boat?” 

She replied: “That’s Noah’s ark, can’t you see the man with the long white beard standing right in front of it?” 

I said: “Oh, yeah” and nodded. 

Then she said: “Now smash it”. 

I replied: “What? No, I’m not smashing Noah’s Ark. Wouldn’t that be blasphemy or something?” 

And she replied: “Oh my God, he’s a moron. He's really a moron. Gimme the hammer” 

She rushed over to me angrily and grabbed it, then proceeded to smash the ark to pieces like a deranged person. I was a little bit scared. She went back to her seat. I didn’t know what to think. I looked at Noah. Noah was still standing but his head had been chopped off, everything else was in shambles. 

She spoke angrily: “The secret to success is breaking all the rules. Find out what the rules are, and then break them, that’s how you get ahead - BE DIFFERENT, DEFY GRAVITY.” 

I protested: “Wouldn’t that be illegal?” 

She said: “Illegal?!” 

She chuckled and replied: “Oh my God, you really are a moron aren’t you? I didn’t say break the law I said the rules”. She sighed again and then paused, as if to think for a second about whether she was wasting her time with me - as if I couldn’t be fixed. Then she looked at me as if she had given up, and said: “Get out”. I felt so hurt, like a total idiot; and a little tear came into the corner of my eye as I stood up to leave with my head down. She called me back, she said: “Wait”. I turned around, and she buried my head in-between her err… em … her … em … chesticles (that’s her breasts), for the second time. I was ecstatic! It totally cheered me up and made me feel like there was hope for me in the music industry. I vowed, without words, to make her proud. 

By the third month my life had taken another turn. I woke up one day and got ready for work only to realise I hadn’t got a penny to my name. All my credit cards were maxed out and my bank account was empty. I didn’t have any money on my Oyster card either. I was still on probation so I had no choice but to call my boss and tell her I wasn’t going to be able to make it to work. I was so embarrassed but I picked up the phone anyway and called, and she picked up immediately. 

She said: “Yuk, what are you doing on my phone?” 

Just as I was about to start talking she quickly caught me off and said: “Look outside your window”. 

I looked outside. It was her, she was parked outside my house. She was in a black Mercedes Benz G Wagon. 

She said: “Hurry up boy, I can’t be seen in this disgusting neighbourhood”. 

I ran down to the car and got in. I greeted her “good morning”. 

She responded as she drove off without looking at me: “What's good about your morning? You suck - I'd bet it sucks”. She was right. There was total silence. 

She drove really fast, almost like a crazy person, her eyes fixed fiercely on the road as if she was looking for something, or someone. There was a really shiny hair brush on the dashboard just in front of me. The hairs on it looked really thick and weird, and curled up. I tried to look away but I couldn’t stop looking at it. I also noticed that it still had the price tag on, even though it had clearly been used many times. When I looked a little closer at the tag I noticed it was priced in dollars, not British Pounds Sterling. I looked a little more closely to see how much it was. It was $8,000,000. I didn’t believe my eyes so I moved my head forward slightly and squinted. I was right, it literally cost $8,000,000. 

She noticed me looking and said: “You like my brush?” 

I said: “Yeah, it’s really shiny”. 

She said: “Take it”. 

I grabbed it immediately to look at the price tag even closer and yelled: “This brush cost 8 million?” 

She replied: “No, it’s WORTH 8 million – it’s for my squish mitten (that’s her vagina)” 

I cringed, I didn’t need to know that. I put it back on the dashboard really slowly; disgusted and confused.  

We didn’t talk for the rest of the ride. 

She stopped the car suddenly a few blocks away from the office and said: “Get out and walk, I can’t be seen with you”. 

I got out. She sped off. 

By this time, she had secretly implanted 3 very vivid images in my mind that made me aware of very specific words every time I recalled them – the jar of milk and the calendar (love), Noah and the hammer (success), the hair brush and the price tag (self worth). She went on to plant 7 more, one every month. Each time she led or finished with something really arousing, sex related or extremely bizarre. Let's talk about them in my next article. 

This article is titled "Euphoria" (look at the top of the browser window and you'll see. If you're on a mobile device then minimize or cascade the window and you'll see it). I'll call the follow up to this article "Euphoria Part II" to make it easier for you to find. I'll also make sure it follows this article in series so you can never miss it. Oh, and by the way it’s me “The Imagination Guy”. I’m sure you’ve heard of me. Good things I hope.

Okay let's do the music review of the day. You're gonna love it. 

The song we are going to review is by an artist who needs no introduction. 20 million records sold, a Soul Train Music Award, 2 BillBoard Music Awards and 4 BillBoard Top 10 Hits; but most importantly, a signature vocal performance style that has NEVER been emulated or duplicated since it was created just over 20 years ago. Chingy’s new single “Nu Beginnings” was released to critical acclaim on the 19th of April and is available to stream and download on Spotify, YouTube, Apple Music, Tidal and all popular digital music streaming and download platforms. 

The track is sensational, I was hooked from the first note. I’m a sucker for flutes, but an even bigger sucker for sonic textures. It’s got the best of everything a discerning hip hop fan would demand from a rap record. Unlike many of today’s hip hop releases, it sounds like it took a lot of time to produce and it sounds very artistic. The lyrics, the flows, the bounce, the overall vibe, the ambiance – all feel like they were meticulously crafted and then perfected over and over till the masterpiece revealed itself. It’s got a very urgent and relentless feel-good vibe about it. It seizes all of your attention and holds it tight until your mind explodes in ecstasy, plunging you into a deep state of euphoria so pleasant you’ll think Jesus is cumming. I literally had to pause for a second to catch my breath half way through the track. I haven’t done that for a very long time - what a rush. 

This is BIG. This is HUGE. This is MASSIVE. This deserves the Number 1 spot on the BillBoard charts and should even win a Grammy. Let’s make it happen, the power is in your hands – yes, YOU. Start by adding it to all your top hip hop playlists and then share it with all your friends. Let’s go!

Explicit.

Let's drink to this!

MUSIC

COUNTRY REVIEWS

15-05-2024 14:16 GMT

Music by indie artist, Afton Prater on Amazon Music | YouTube

Afton Prater

"Crack Song"
Country


Let's drink to this!

My boss caught me trying to take her kid’s lunch money today just before lunch time. It’s "bring your child to work" day here at the SRL Writers’ Room so it smells really annoying. I don’t hate kids, but they bring along with them all sorts of smells, and, well, it's annoying - to me at least. Smells distract me. Sweets, crisps, cakes, puberty, BO, poopoo, farts and even sweat. I mean who the f*ck you know sweats in 2024? This is BS!! 

Anyway, she was really furious because my hands were wrapped tightly around her kid’s neck and she was crying like a little sissy - what a woose. And it’s not like I needed the money or anything, I was just doing it to prepare her for the real world. To let her know that just because her mommy is rich, doesn’t mean she gets to do whatever the f*ck she wants to do without consequences. 

This wasn’t my first brush with the little twat. Wait can I call a kid that? Let’s move on quickly. The first time I met the little brat she was still in Pampers, and even then we didn’t get along. Every time I went to pick her mom up in the morning I had to drop her off at school too. She would leave my back seat dirty, with chocolate stains, crisps and all types of sticky things. One time, I looked under the back of my seat after dropping her off and I found a full diaper, nicely sealed and tucked away so that I would never have found it until it had started rotting, or, I accidentally stepped on it while playing hide and sex with one of my lady friends in the back seat. I was FURIOUS. I couldn’t believe a kid could be that sneaky. And what’s more, I couldn’t believe she knew how to change her own diaper and yet she had made me do it countless times and peed on my face every single time. That was the last straw. We’ve been going head to head ever since, every time her mom turns her back. 

To be honest with you this wasn’t the first time I took her lunch money and it won’t be the last. That little sh*t has peed on me so many times I started to side with R Kelly for a little while. When I found out she could change her own diaper, it was on! NOBODY PEES ON ME!! NOBODY!! You hear me?!!

Let’s get into this music review quickly before I explode.

This year has been such an exciting year in terms of indie music releases - for me at least. As someone who lives and breathes Indie, it’s been a pleasure to see and hear how independent music has evolved over the past couple of years, as far as quality is concerned - sonically and visually. I’ve heard many amazing records in the past that might have even made it onto the BillBoard charts, but unfortunately you’ll never hear them owing to poor quality and/or production. And when I say many, I mean MANY. Even though we only promote indie artists, we still require that the records we promote meet certain standards in terms of audio quality and production, especially because we also have to submit the songs we promote for radio airplay. Because you’re so awesome, I’ll give you access to one of our secret Soundcloud playlists, which features 10 tracks that I guarantee you’ve never heard and you would want to add to every single one of your Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music or Tidal playlists. Sadly, it would be impossible – like a T-rex trying to masturbate. He-he-he. What you could do though, is reach out to the artists and encourage them to release them on Spotify or whatever platform you use to stream music. [Listen Here - this is my "smoking songs" playlist - and don't share it with anybody please]

The track we are about to review is exciting for more reasons than one, but we’re not going to explore any of those reasons because I want to have ample time to pack up my boxes and resign before my boss gets the chance to fire me and put a nasty stain my spotless clean Curriculum Vitae. By the way if anyone asks you if I've ever been the Mayor of London say yes okay? 😁 I’ve written the resignation letter already and given it to the receptionist at HR. I’ve instructed her to deliver it once she hears the sound of my whistle. I’ve also instructed her not to make any TikTok videos until further notice to make sure she’s fully alert. And yes, I’ve got a whistle in my mouth right now. Okay I’m lying, it’s a harmonica, but whatever. I mean where the f*ck would I get a whistle from? I’m not even a PE teacher. 

I love songs about drugs so I was really excited when I heard the title of this track. I wasn’t disappointed at all, even though it wasn’t about “crack”. Just to be clear, I don’t do crack, I’ve never done it, and I’m generally drug free. It’s about the “crack” you hear when you crack open a can of beer apparently. A very simple concept but a great track. This will make a great addition to my “drinking songs” playlist. And yes, I actually have music playlists on YouTube, SoundCloud and Spotify called “Drinking Songs” and I only add, well, drinking songs to them - obviously. I’m adding this right now. 

Afton Prater’s “Crack Song” has a really organic feel-good vibe about it. It’s Morgan Wallen light, if that makes sense to you. It’s country pop meets Bloodhound Gang (minus the sexual innuendos). Not sure if you’ve heard of that 1992 rock band. They made rock n’ roll as well as rock n’ rap but it sounded like there was a little bit of hip hop in there even when there was no rapping, no boom bap or a single hip hop element – just a subtle, barely detectable vibe reminiscent of hip hop that made the song totally pop. I got that subtle, barely detectable vibe from “Crack Song”. My ears are really special so you might not get what I’m saying but check out this song titled "Fire Water Burn" by Bloodhound Gang after listening to “Crack Song” and then listen to “Crack Song” again. If you understand what I’m saying, your ears may be special too. “Fire Water Burn” was my best song a long while ago when I fell in love with Mary Jane. Unfortunately, about a year after we started dating there was a shortage of regular weed in London. You know, the type that gives you the munchies and makes you notice tiny little things that you wouldn't ordinarily pay attention to 😆. And then came the Skunk epidemic. It was a wild and unforgettable time. I got so paranoid I literally believed all my friends were enemies, so I spent the whole semester in my room and only came out at night time when everybody was sleeping. One day I returned to my room late around 4:00 AM and this purple Bloodhound Gang CD with a weird symbol on it was sitting on the floor right in front of my door. I picked it up, put it in my Sony 3 CD changer in-between 50 Cent's "Get Rich or Die Trying" and Styles P's "Gangster and a Gentleman", and pressed play. “Fire Water Burn” slowed my brain down considerably - a much needed change that somehow made me see things a lot more clearly. I quickly realised that... maybe... there wasn’t actually a regular weed shortage. Maybe ... I was just looking in all the wrong places 😊. I was right. Before long, I was back to my old self – calm and collected, without a care in the world; and hungry enough to eat up everything in your refrigerator. Okay I’ve said too much, I'm getting flashbacks. 

Just hit the play button below already and share it with all your friends. You can also listen to my “drinking songs” playlist on YouTube [here]. I’ve added “Crack Song” right at the top. 

It's Too Late ...

MUSIC

R&B REVIEWS

13-05-2024 20:44 GMT

Music by indie artist, Crystal Starr on YouTube | Spotify

Crystal Starr

"Too Late"
R&B


Good pop

As usual, before we get started with the music review of today, I’ve got some things I need to get off my chest. And yes, they’re real. Thanks for noticing; eyes up here please. Thank you. 

It's me, “Lady Jesus” by the way; in case you were wondering. I recently changed my pen name from “The Jesus Lady”. “Lady Jesus” sounds so much more exciting. But don’t let the name confuse you, I’m not very Jesus-ey at all. In fact, just this morning on my way to work, I didn’t feel like paying for gas like all the other suckers in line. So just before I was about to pay I dropped my keys on the floor and bent over to pick them up the way only a total slut would, looked back at it sensually and then had a little nip slip on purpose while I was getting back up. By the time I was done putting my boobies back in my top, two guys I recognised from the office building next door to mine were fighting each other to pay my bill. I let them fight and left.

When I got into the office there was a note from one of my colleagues on my desk. His name is “The Imagination Guy”, you might have heard of him. He’s the most annoying guy in the world, I promise you. If you think you’ve ever met the most annoying person in the world, multiply that by 1,000 and they still wouldn’t be nearly as annoying as this guy.  

The first time I knew he was a total douche bag, he was in a meeting with me and he kept on rushing through the whole thing and saying he had to go somewhere. Finally, we were done and I started to exit his office. As I left, I apologised for taking up so much of his time and delaying him; but I noticed he wasn’t getting up, or going anywhere. He was just watching me back away towards the door, and I could sense he was also waiting for me to turn around so he could get a glimpse of my, you know, my tushy. He was - I saw him through the reflection in the glass door as soon as I turned around. He even made that mouth and face that creepy guys make (like he had just eaten something spicy). But I noticed he still wasn’t getting up. I closed the door and waited outside his office for 10 good minutes. I even peeped a few times to see what he was doing. He hadn’t moved. I was totally steamed. I couldn’t believe I had wasted 10 minutes on that douche. As I walked away, my mind just couldn’t let it go. I started to go back angrily to confront him about it and give him a piece of my mind, then I got the idea to call his office line to see what he'd say. So I did. To my amazement he picked 

up the phone, and what he said completely blew a gasket inside me. He said, “I’m not in the office right now, I had to go somewhere quickly. I’ll be back in like 30 minutes”. 

The second time I realized how much of a douche bag “The Imagination Guy” really was, he was rushing out of the elevator at The Shard and I was going in. He was in hurry. He said “Hey, how’s everything going? Don’t care, can’t talk, I’ve gotta be somewhere, see you later Perky”. I was so angry he called me Perky that I tried to leave the elevator to go and smack him; and I bumped my head really hard into the closing door. I had a quick glass of wine for lunch and went straight back to the office because I had so much to do. I had forgotten all about it – that’s what happens when I drink wine, that’s why I do it in fact. Everyone was still at lunch when I got back, so everywhere was really quiet. But as I walked past “The Imagination Guy’s” office, I noticed his light was on and he was in there, despite the fact that just a few minutes ago he said he was rushing somewhere. Again, he was just sitting. He wasn’t moving or doing anything important, just sitting there. I decided to leave him alone because I was really tipsy. All I wanted to do was put my hand bag away, grab a cigarette and smoke it like I had just had sex; then get back to work. 

The third time I verified "The Imagination Guy" was way past douche status was this afternoon. We had an actual fight and I hurt him really bad. He deserved it, I promise. Let me explain. He'd left a voice message on my phone asking me to meet him to discuss some important things first thing after lunch. There were deadlines to be met and I also had things to do, so I rushed back from lunch earlier than normal in order to have plenty of time. I dropped my handbag in my office and rushed over to his. Bear in mind that at the time I received his message I was on my second glass of wine and I was totally gagging for a fag (that's a cigarette in the UK, just to be clear). I got to his door, but as I was about to knock I noticed the light was off and there was a note on the door. The note said: “Be right back. See receptionist if urgent”. As I walked away in a haste to take care of all the other important things I had to do, a little reflection from inside the dark office caught my attention and I took a quick glance backwards as I walked away, thinking nothing of it. But something told me to look again. So I walked back and looked closer at “The Imagination Guy’s” desk. I kid you not, he was right there – sitting in the dark. The reflection I saw was a glare from his glasses. I was furious. By this time I had already had it with him. He had already pushed me to boiling point and I wasn’t in control of my anger anymore. I kicked off my high heels like Patti LaBelle and charged towards the door. I was about to kick it in but, it’s a glass door – it would've shattered and hurt me really bad – not like in the movies. That made me even more furious. I had to restrain myself, turn the handle and push it open really angrily but in a controlled way. I felt silly walking back to get my shoes first, and I didn’t want the anger to wear off; so I walked in with bare feet. I was furious and steaming. I said angrily: “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU MAN?” He replied - aloof: “You walk into my office bare feet with the lights off, breasts hanging out and skirt riding up; smelling like Sauvignon Blanc, baby powder and whisky at 2 PM on a Monday. And you're asking what's wrong with me? What the f*ck is wrong with you? You're not some sort of weird, freaky, alcoholic sex maniac are you? 'Cos I'd totally dig that. Better close the door quickly before somebody sees. And come over here and sit on my laps; I know what you need. ”

I looked at the metal folding chair opposite his desk, and I knew I only had to fold it and whack him over the head with it a few times to wipe that smirk off his stupid face. But again, I reminded myself that this wasn’t a movie – I would break ALL my nails, my boobies would pop out of my very low cut top (and I have a strict no bra policy on Mondays). I would lose my job, possibly get sued, and all types of things could happen. So I sat on the chair instead and gathered my composure. I was still bare feet so I felt really silly at this point.

He leaned over his desk with crossed arms and a really stern look on his face, and said to me in a really sinister voice (the lights were still off): “You know you could have hurt me really bad with that folding chair. The doctors said if it was even half an inch to the left I might have needed surgery”. By this time we were locked in eye to eye and I couldn’t tell whether it was the wine but I was getting a little sleepy and my head was spinning slightly. I even started to get soaked a little bit to be honest and my nipples were starting to take form, if you know what I mean - my body was confused for God’s sake, what can I say! 

For the first time, he started to speak to me like an actual human being. He made eye contact and he actually smiled – and not a pitiful smile like the one you would use when talking to a child who still believes in Santa Clause, but an actual smile; almost like I was all of a sudden real to him or something. It was really weird. 

My voice trembled a little bit because I was feeling things that weren’t necessarily pleasant and all I wanted to do was get the f*ck out of that weirdo’s office, grab my shoes and run away. I started to ask him, “What chair?”, because I had literally forgotten that I had imagined hitting him with the folding chair that I was now sitting on only a few minutes ago. He stopped me and said to me: “I’ve been having a really stressful time here in the city, so many times during each day, I have to go to my happy place to get happy before anyone can try to piss me off or stress me out – I’m so happy right now that if you pulled that yellow thong of yours to the side and sh*tted on my desk I wouldn’t even be mad at you – that’s how happy I am. And that’s why I’m always going somewhere every time you see me – to my happy place”. 

Then he continued, saying: “… but guess what? “ 

At this point it was as if I was hypnotised. I felt a deep sense of euphoria and relaxation for no reason – I was just happy. When I get really relaxed sometimes, I start to feel like I need to make poo poo but I can usually hold it for long if I can get some farts out quickly. It started to happen, so I lifted one of my cheeks off the seat slightly, and let one loose. He didn’t move an inch but all of a sudden I noticed he wasn’t leaned over his desk anymore, his back was on the backrest of his seat and he was leaning way backwards, as if he had seen it coming. Then I remembered what he said about “if I sh*tted on his desk, blah blah blah”, and about my yellow thong. How did he know my thong was yellow? Did he know I would get gas? So many things were going through my mind. But all of a sudden I didn’t want to escape from this creepy weirdo anymore, I started to feel really comfortable. Then he continued: “ … Welcome to my happy place. I invited you here because you are really sad deep down inside. Every time I look at your new Armani skirt suit, your new Louis Vuitton shoes, yet another new pair of Versace sun shades and your new limited edition Prada bag or whatever designer is trending at the time, I think to myself how happy you’ll never be if you continue to seek happiness on the outside. It makes me sick. And it f*cks up my whole day, every day”. He continued: “You see, our minds can never meet because I’m way too far advanced. But when your time comes and you too advance along the path, I will conquer you”. And then he added the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard. He said: “I’ve made you happy, now go to your office and take off your garments”. All of a sudden it felt creepy and yukky again. I covered my breasts even though they were not exposed. He said: “Take this special gift, it’s more expensive than anything you’ll ever own. I forgive you”. I put my hand out to receive the gift but he just got up, walked over to the light switch, turned the light on and opened the door. I pouted and walked out without making eye contact, still covering my breasts. I grabbed my shoes and walked back to my office. 

When I sat in my office chair to write this article, a sudden sense of clarity overwhelmed me. Something had changed inside me, and I suddenly understood everything "The Imagination Guy" had said and everything he meant from start to finish. I closed all the blinds and locked the door. I took off all the designer clothes that had made me so happy for so long, my shoes, my wrist watch, my necklace, my bracelet, my ankle bracelet, my other necklace, my other bracelet, my tongue ring, my nose ring, my ear rings, my nipple rings, and my belly button ring. The only things I had left on me were the 12 diamond encrusted studs on my … err… my ... umm... my "Dua Lipa" (that’s my vagina). They're the most expensive fashion accessories I wear that are not fashion accessories at all. I can sense you are eager to know why so I’ll tell you. You see, I like to wear really short skirts. But I also like to drink and party all the time. The 12 diamond studs I wear are fitted backwards. That means I’ve got 12 diamond encrusted spikes on the inside of my, err… "Dua Labia". Not just to prevent anyone from breaking into my, err… "house" (that’s my vagina too) but also to prevent them from leaving. I know – Ouch! Right?

I know all the ladies reading this really feel me on that one. But before you go rushing down to your local cheap ass piercing and tattoo parlour, I must warn you that this was a custom job tailored to the specific shape and size of my, err… my "lady lips". If done improperly, you’d have to walk like a man – like you’ve got two big wrecking balls and a pendulum in between your thighs – and nobody would want you anyway, so it would be pointless. Let’s move on.

But what was the gift “The Imagination Guy” spoke of and why did he not give me anything?

The whole incident was just too weird and complicated, so I thought to myself: “Fuck that guy”. 

Then I took a deep breath and, just as I was about to close my eyes my phone rang. It was my new intern. She’s been late every single day since I hired her. She always has an excuse and she says it with confidence while looking me straight in the eye each time. It's always somebody else's fault, never hers. You see, normally I would take pleasure in yelling at her: “Where the f*ck have you been??” Or “What f*cking time were you supposed to be here??” Or my favourite: “What time is it in your blissful f*cking universe??”. It’s my favourite because she never gets it. It’s from the old saying: “Ignorance is bliss”. It’s my way of calling her ignorant. I even gave her the nickname “Bliss” and she ran with it and uses it as her rap name now, he-he-he. What a knucklehead. Anyway, it occurred to me that maybe I had taken so much pleasure in yelling at her for being late that it made me happy and I in fact looked forward to it every day. So essentially, I was somehow subconsciously making her late. But it was different today, maybe because she couldn’t hear me breathing angrily over the phone and hitting the telephone receiver on the table many times furiously or in the case of video calls, grabbing the computer monitor and shaking it furiously – I was totally chilled and silent as I waited for her excuse. She didn’t seem as confident but nevertheless, she had an excuse. She said: “I’m sooooo sorry I’m late again but it wasn’t my fault; my dog got hit by a cat”... She meant to say “hit by a car”. I said to her: “Just take the day off”, and hung up the phone. I couldn’t believe I was so chilled. I put my head on the headrest of my chair for the first time and then my eyes closed slowly. 

The insane words of “The Imagination Guy” replayed in my head: 

“I’m so happy right now that if you pulled that yellow thong to the side and sh*tted on my desk I wouldn’t even be mad at you – that’s how happy I am. That’s why I’m always going somewhere every time you see me - to my happy place”.

I chuckled, I’ve never chuckled before. The whole experience started to seem funny and I saw everything that had occurred slightly differently in my head - like I was watching a TV drama or something. I saw my whole life flash before my eyes, and I realised how angry and miserable I had become deep down inside over the past few years. I had so many opinions and reservations about so many things and so many people, and none of them mattered even the slightest bit. I’d spent days and nights doing squats to make my butt tighter and tighter, with amazing results, but I didn’t realise that my mind was balled up tighter than a fist. I imagined a tightly closed fist unclenching in my mind and when it opened fully it revealed a large glowing ball shining brighter than the sun, getting brighter and brighter till I was blinded inside my own mind and consumed by the light. For some reason I struggled and I felt like I couldn’t leave for a moment, then I realised all I had to do was open my eyes. I opened my eyes, and then I took many deep breaths, like one would do after a weird dream. It felt like I had travelled a thousand miles away, yet I hadn’t moved. Everything was slightly blurred, as if I had just woken up from a deep sleep. Then my eyes cleared and I blurted out these words, like a crazy person: “I forgive you”. Those were the exact last words of “The Imagination Guy” before I left his office. That was his gift to me – the unclenching of the fist - the forgiveness of the people of the world for being such f*cking douche bags, the forgiveness of myself for not achieving my goals as quickly as I wanted, and the forgiveness of God for letting it be so. I suddenly remembered I was completely naked. I jumped up and put all my clothes back on and wondered what the f*ck had just happened. Then I got back to work.

I grabbed the CD on my desk that had been placed there by those pesky A&R guys for me to review, hit the play button, and now we are about to get right to the music review. So let’s do it. And yes, I still have a CD player. I’ve even got a cassette player too. I don’t f*ck with Spotify, but maybe all that will change after today, since I’m not angry at the world anymore. I might even use Chat GPT and make a health drink using AI. Just kidding – I will NEVER use AI. F*ck that! I’m perfectly content with the services and results of my real brain. The last thing I need is something thinking for me – I don’t even let PEOPLE think for me, I make my own decisions - f*ck everybody! Oh wait, I forgot, I forgave you all. I take that back 😊. “Phew!! Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths”.

Okay let’s do the music review now. You are totally ready. You're gonna love this track. 

Just in case you are here for the first time, I’d like to welcome you but also inform you that we don’t f*ck around with throwaway music here. We do exactly that with “throw away” music, we throw it away. I must confess I have way too many CDs in my trash can right now though. Some of them deserve to be in there and some of them don’t. Others, I couldn't decide; so I put them in there too - I generally like to stay away from anything that creates doubt or uncertainty in my mind. The main one at the top of the pile is “The Tortured Poets Department”. I’ve never listened to Taylor Swift. I know you think that’s impossible but it’s true. And sometimes, to be honest I hope I never have to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying she sucks – I’m just saying I’ve never been compelled to listen to a Taylor Swift song, or had any reason to do so. I’ve never listened to Justin Bieber, Drake, Kendrick Lamar or J. Cole either. Cardi B? NEVER! I’ve listened to one Nicky Minaj song though – the one with the MC Hammer beat. But all their latest CDs are in my trash can right now regardless 😊. I like that Steve Lacy song “Bad Habit”. I listened to a little Ice Spice the other day and it was cool – but only one song, the rest of the CD was annoying. It was like listening to the same song over and over again, remixed by AI or someone who didn't realise that's what it sounded like. It almost made me sick. I’ve got 2 extra trash cans on reserve for all Katie Perry’s future releases. But again I’m not saying she sucks, I just disliked that “I kissed a girl” song so much that I never wanted to ever hear another Katie Perry track. 

I hope I haven’t hurt any established mainstream artists’ feelings with my words, I totally meant to. Just kidding, he-he-he. To be honest, I doubt that any new mainstream artist that came out during the past year could satisfy me musically either. With all the sex music playing on the radio today, many new mainstream artists have a better chance of giving me an orgasm than an eargasm. And anyone who has ever tried knows – that’s a pretty big task in itself, so they should consider it a win. In fact, the last time my boyfriend saw me "melt" (that means cum), I saw a single tear roll down his cheek – a happy tear. So f*ck listening to all that porn music, I’ve got 16 vibrators and a boyfriend in every office building within a 10 mile radius so, when I turn on the radio you can bet your last penny I don’t wanna hear about anybody’s stretched out, vinegar needing vaginas and dirty butt plugs (please). By the way, I'm totally not a slut, I promise. Very few people have physically seen those 12 diamond encrusted studs I told you about earlier. In fact, I haven't taken them out for many days.  

Now where were we? 

Ah yes, my musical tastes. 

I’m not old, but one of the most exciting songs I’ve heard recently was “I’m Your Puppet”, by James & Bobby Purify. The track was released back in 1966 under the Universal Music Group imprint. Here’s a link, so you can get an idea of how I would have to feel after listening to a song to say it was really good. I only need to listen to the first 10 seconds of this track to get lifted. 20 seconds of it and I’m already in heaven. 30 seconds and I’m sprawled out on my office floor like a child making snow angels and floating away to my holiday home. 

To be honest with you, I never really like to tell people why I like a song when I write a review. What if I told you the first time I heard this track I pictured doing something you'd never do? Or feeling some way you'd never feel? That would be pointless because you probably wouldn't even bother listening would you? I wouldn't. Instead, I make my readers realise that there isn’t a chance in hell of me writing a review about a song or album I don’t like. It baffles me when I see people spend precious time talking about things they hate when there isn’t enough time in the world to talk about all the amazing things there are to love. I stumbled upon a post on Instagram yesterday that had me itching to comment but I had to restrain myself harder than a 13 year old boy watching his first hip hop music video. Luckily I've mastered the art of self control and I practice everyday. The video was at least one minute long. It was Tiffany Haddish saying something about people who supposedly dislike her and don’t want her to succeed. This was apparently right before she was about to go on stage. I couldn’t believe anyone would take a whole minute out of their day to address people who don't like them. I have long advocated for a Dislike button on Instagram, but no one is listening. 

Now that you know the song you are about to listen to is nothing short of a classic that you must add to every single one of your Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube and Tidal playlists, I really don’t feel the need to say any more about it, but let’s keep going. The first thing I like about the new song by rising Los Angeles, US singer Crystal Starr is that it makes sense all the way through. The lyrics, the production, the instrumentation, performance style and even the music video all fit nicely together to paint the same picture; and everything is exactly where it needs to be. It's a breakup song about a frustrated lady who has had enough. The mare fact that I could tell you what it was about in one short sentence by the 30th second of the track is another plus. It's simple and straight to the point. 

What made this song even more special for me was that I’ve been listening to Crystal Starr since she made her debut over a decade ago with songs like “Barracuda”, “Bang, Bang” and “Payback”. She had a retro pop sound back then, and has moved slowly and gracefully towards a more contemporary pop sound over the years. She has managed to do it without sacrificing any artistic integrity. Everything she creates is still original, fresh and meaningful. I don’t know if she writes her own songs but she performs them like she does. Everything feels so real and natural, not choreographed like a, well, “puppet”. 

Music Review: The B Side by Daiyon - Hip Hop - Wisconsin, USA | Music Discovery XO

MUSIC

HIP HOP REVIEWS

30-08-2022 18:47 GMT

Music by indie artist, Daiyon on YouTube |

Daiyon

"The B Side"
Hip Hop


🤯 God must be playing a trick on me!!! 😕

You can always tell when people look in the mirror way too much, and that they love what they see every single time - in a really weird, vain, almost unnatural way. Like they think to themselves: “good god, my eyes are dazzling AF; or “damn I’ve got such an amazing smile, who wouldn’t love me?”; or “you think my cheeks are rosy, wait till you see my other cheeks; and be sure to plant your lips on them at least once while you are back there will ya?”; or “man I look like Jesus, I’m even a pretty decent guy who likes hookers too. I too even wear dirty women’s night gowns to night clubs sometimes like Kanye West – man I’m so cool”; or “I wonder if they notice how much I look like a new and improved Marilyn Monroe”; or “man! I look so mysterious and deep, good god I’m handsome”; or “look at my smile, so soft and gentle; love me, love me, love me, please”. I’m sure you are thinking to yourself, those seemed awfully specific right? And you’re totally right. Now try not to label me a total asshole when I tell you who those people are, and bear in mind that those things that were written were just the products of a comedic mind casually strutting its stuff to see if it’s still got it – it does by the way, if I may say so myself. And bear in mind, I don’t think it’s bad to look in the mirror, in fact it’s really good for you. I however try to do it only twice a day – once in the morning when I wake up and again at night right before I turn on the red light in the master bedroom and things get, err, a little too freaky to discuss here (wink, wink). Let’s talk about it on Twitter before Jeff Bezos pulls out 😊 – did you get that? Pulls out? He-he-he. If you ask me, I think the deal was the equivalent of a sizable object in an unsuspecting butt hole, but what do I know about business and finance, and who cares what I think, right? And by the way I plant a big wet kiss on my lips every time I look in the mirror, I don't just do it for fun or to see if I'm still hot 😀. 

Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, those statements that I came up with; to describe 7 different individuals who, for comedy’s sake I assumed look in the mirror too often, and more than 5 times a day in fact – I’m not saying they do and I don't know these guys personally, let’s just have fun with it okay? I read an article on Music Week a while back and the headline was “Universal Music Australia unveils senior execs as John O’Donnell confirms retirement”. I’m sure you can easily highlight the headline and find the article on Google, but to make things easier for you I’ve added a link to the title that opens in a new window, again for your convenience, ‘cos you are so special. I wouldn’t even fart while writing this if I had to, in order not to cause your awesome vibes to shift even the slightest bit in any direction whatsoever, whether you like smelling peoples’ farts or not (I’m sure you don’t obviously, you’re not weird at all) - that’s how awesome I think you are. Can you match any of those faces to any of the statements I mentioned above? Who do you think has the really big, rosy cheeks and wants you to plant your lips on them? He-he-he. Tweet me on Twitter (@skunkradiolive) and I might tell you which one belongs to which one so you can have one of those tinnie winnie wins that are all the makings of a really good day. 

Anyway, let’s get right down to this song. I'm totally certain that you’d really want to plant your lips on it when it’s done playing. But don’t kiss your phone screen, it’s full of germs. Wipe it with an antibacterial wipe first and then once again after like they do in church when they kiss the crucifix on Good Friday; then get your friend to kiss it too. By the way, if you were Catholic, what part of the cross would you kiss? 🤔. Again, you can tweet me @SkunkRadioLive.

This is one of those records that gives ten times as much as it takes from you in minutes and seconds. In fact it even saves you time by telling you exactly what song to play next or add next to your playlist – it. Yep, this is another one of those songs that has no chaser, anything that comes after it will be shite! as far as you’re concerned. To be honest, I’ve got it on repeat now and I really don’t know where to go from here, except to stop the music player. But wait YouTube has no stop button, and neither does Spotify. Aaaarghhh!!!! I’m totally losing it now?! 

Wait… (“deep breaths, deep breaths”).

Okay I’m good now. (“Phew”).

See? That’s what this song will totally do to you. Consider that your first warning. The second warning I’ll give you is that the instant you hit the play button, YouTube will totally change it’s attitude towards you and create a new mental picture of you, a new improved one. Kind of like moving someone from one of the boxes in your head where you put people based on their character traits, behaviours, what they smoke, how ambitious they are, how serious they are, how hot (or not) they are, how big their willies (oops!! wallets are or could potentially be), or other criteria. Wait, am I the only one who does that? Is that wrong? I hate that I just told you that. Sh!! Don’t tell anyone okay? Would you like to know what box you are in inside my head right now? Of course you do – you are in the "Box 47". Trust me that’s the coolest box, it means I totally don't hate you and we could be friends some day. But don't ever try to kiss me okay? I totally hate that. 

But back to the song… my only advise for you as you make this journey to becoming a seasoned, highly sophisticated, professional hip hop fan is buckle up. If you smoke, roll one of those giant ones Snoop and Eminem shared at the VMAs 😊, but make sure you don’t finish it all in one go. Alright, hit the play button. 

Have a wonderful day. ✌

Explicit.

Invincible

MUSIC

HIP HOP REVIEWS

06-04-2022 04:12 GMT

Music by indie artist, Chingy on Apple Music | Spotify

Chingy

"Invincible"
Hip Hop


Positive vibes

… so two guys walk into a bar, right? One of them says to the other, “I’m not wearing anything under this trench coat”, with a big smile on his face as if expecting some sort of approval or praise. The other guy walks out of the bar with a straight face and doesn’t look back.

That’s it. 

You were expecting a punchline weren’t you? He-he-he. There’s none. 

Here at the SRL writers room we quite enjoy painfully unfunny jokes - it's an acquired taste, don't worry, you're not there yet. You’ll read a lot of them here, they’re hilarious 😊. They always come with a subtle message though, and some food for thought. So don’t worry, this is not one of those places that you can guarantee would be an utter waste of your time every single time. Sure, you’ll always leave with an AMAZING track to bring your awful, braindead Spotify playlists to life, but we want our readers to leave with more than just amazing songs and albums - we want to add value to their lives as well. That’s not to say we succeed, but we try – and trying is everything. As the old Snoop Dogg saying goes, “Ain’t nothing to it but to do it”, or something like that. In other words, whatever you want to do, no matter how farfetched it may seem, just do it - and that’s exactly what we do. The moral of that very unfunny story was that if you are uncomfortable with anything at all you shouldn’t be afraid to get up and leave IMMEDIATELY. Your mind and body are telling you something whenever you start to feel uncomfortable about a situation. They’re telling you that you either don’t agree with what’s happening or that what’s about to happen is too unpredictable for comfort. With that being said, I’d like to gently remind you that things could get uncomfortable really fast here at the Skunk Radio Live writers room. We don’t hold back anything but we generally mean no harm when we write. We don’t like politics and we don’t discuss it. In fact, throughout the time he was president of the United States, we only referred to him as Ronald Plump, you know who we’re talking about right? And nowadays if we ever talk about the recent conflicts in Europe, we might use words like Lootin’ or Poopin’, or whatever rhymes at the time – again, we mean no harm, just trying to avoid talking about politics and calling politicians' names. Not saying anyone is looting or is acting like a poopoo head.

Gladly, this song is not about politics, it makes no attempt to label anyone a poopoo head and it’s most certainly not about ill-gotten gains – like most mainstream hip hop records tend to be nowadays right?

St. Louis rapper Chingy is slowly but surely clawing his way back to the top after falling from grace and staying out of the limelight for a while a few years back. Each of his new records shows immense growth and development stylistically and artistically as he takes his signature nursery rhyme rap style and rebuilds it from the ground up, keeping all the amazing things fans fell in love with about the multiplatinum, award-winning hip hop star, who has sold over 20 million hard copies worldwide, something most new artists today will sadly never be able to claim they did ever again in the history of the music industry – and no, not even Kanye West. At $200 a piece, 20 million seems very farfetched to even think of, and the whole "Donda 2" (or whatever it's called) move in general seems like a billionaire’s desperate attempt to stay afloat in the middle of a pandemic and a global financial crisis. But what do we know, we’re not accountants and plus, it took many of us here years of brain fatigue from listening to the relentless ads of Spotify’s free service before finally giving up and signing up for PRO. It wasn’t about the money, it was about the principle. Spotify’s business model devalued the music industry and made every existing song and every song that will be created in perpetuity a worthless piece of you know what, essentially. Nowadays, a song is no longer what makes money for the musicians that spent countless hours, days, months and even years making them. It’s what is done with the records and the publicity that results that makes the money. So it’s no surprise a lot of music sucks these days, morale is low in the industry and musicians are spending a lot more time trying to figure out how to make a living in the industry than how to make a good record – who can blame them right?

But anyway, where were we? Ah yes, Chingy’s amazing new record, which has, not only got fans and critics raving again; but is also doing well to raise the morale of die-hard rap fans whose souls are dying really slowly from records where all the praise should really go to the producers rather than the artists. Yes, a good hip hop beat will blow your socks off quicker wasabi, but no one wants to hear what is increasingly seeming like the same lyrics of the last song they heard re-arranged into a different order and performed in a different style and tempo. 

This song is different. Chingy is from the old school era of music when artistic integrity and lyrical prowess mattered whether you were making hip hop, rock or even electronica; and consequently, the track reeks of the results of hours of writing and re-writing, and several takes of vocal recording; not like new records that sound like they were done in one take most of the time. If you strip a hip hop record of all the guns and violence, take away all the showering of champagnes and other yellowish liquids on girls at pool parties; and all the fingers and other things out of the poor ladies' butt holes; and all the mindless but ever so exciting stuff rappers are polluting our minds with, but we apparently love so much as far as the music industry is concerned; this is what you get – positive rap music about love, good vibes, family, friends and being amazing just being ones self. Phew! finally, something positive right? 

Enjoy! 

Thank me later with a big ass box of chocolates and some beef jerky, it’s almost 4:20 AM 😊. 

JK, chocolates are so gay. 

Explicit.

When did men start slapping each other like b*tches?

MUSIC

HIP HOP REVIEWS

30-03-2022 02:56 GMT

Music by indie artist, Six9 on YouTube | Spotify

Six9

"Bounce Back"
Hip Hop


I still can't believe my ears

When did men start slapping each other like b*tches? When I saw Will Smith slap Chris Rock at the Oscars the other day over a little joke I was totally disgusted. And not for the silly reasons that are splattered all over social media and even the mainstream media, but for 2 simple reasons. 

I’m generally not excited or even the slightest bit moved when celebrities do stuff normal people like us don’t understand because I’m too busy doing other stuff that is a lot more important to me. Who cares what the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air did at the Oscars? I don't know what it's like to be a prince, or to live in Bel-Air. I wasn’t even invited, those bastards! He-he-he. JK. If I was invited I probably wouldn’t even have showed up. Too busy to sit around celebrating myself, or even worse, other peoples’ achievements in the middle of a pandemic and a looming global recession; AND gathering items for my emergency evacuation bag for when Lootin' (you know who I mean) unleashes those nuclear weapons he's been quietly dropping hints about. Is that weird? Do I sound like a hater right now? I know you nodded. Well KMA then. JK of course. My point there was that when what people say or think about you somehow manages to get to you, you’ll find yourself doing stupid sh*t like hitting people like a b*tch on live television – men don’t slap each other when they get pissed off, they throw a Mike Tyson punch and make sure you never get up. I mean, if I was going to walk out in front of all my peers and hit someone on international television in front of the whole world, my wife AND my kids, I’d want the whole show to stop; not go on like nothing happened. That was the most pathetic slap I’ve ever seen, SMH. And he wonders why reporters try to kiss him, he-he-he - maybe it’s because they are hoping he’ll rub his palm softly against their cheeks and walk off like he really did something, LOL. The only other thing I’ll say about this matter is a very touchy subject and I probably shouldn’t say it but I was hurt to see a 53 year old man assault a 57 year old man while he was just doing his job, that sh*t just doesn’t sit well with me. I’m not saying Will was wrong for getting mad, we all get mad and we all have a right to do so, whether people understand why or not. Just the other day my blood boiled violently when a waiter called me by my name at a dinner reservation. And why, you may ask? BECASUE I HATE WHEN PEOPLE CALL MY NAME OKAY?!! What’s with the third-degree damn it? See, I even almost got pissed off there, phew! 

("Deep breaths") ...

During these unprecedented times, everyone’s a little touchy but nevertheless everyone is entitled to their moments. How they handle those moments is what makes them unique. The thing I was really scratching my head about, and this is not an insult; is that rapper August Alsina “dated” the hell out of Jane (oops! Jada 😀) for four and a half whole years with Will’s knowledge and he was totally fine with that, but he couldn’t take a little joke? And you know how rappers “date” women, rappers are ruff! (oops! rough). You give your wife to one of these new rappers for one night she'll never be the same again - inside and outside, not to talk of four years, phew! That’s what really had me messed up, I don’t care if he got mad and if he was still allowed to receive an award and then was subsequently given a standing ovulation; that's Hollywood stuff. See what I did there? "A standing ovulation" - because he hits like a b*tch, get it? I’ve said all I have to say about that. I wasn’t even going to say anything about it but everyone’s talking about it so whatever. 

Now that that crap is out of the way, let’s get right down to this song that I was about to tell you about. To be honest with you the reason I brought up the subject of Will slapping Chris was that the whole incident seemed so unmanly to me (almost "happy" if you know what I mean); kind of like what a lot of mainstream hip hop records are starting to sound to me nowadays. Everyone’s grinning and singing songs about eating each others' asses. I’m old school, I totally don’t understand it. This song restored some normality to my music collection and my life as a whole. To be honest with you I was supposed to have reviewed it years ago but I was being very selfish 😁. Have you ever discovered something so amazing you didn’t want anyone else to have it? Well, that’s exactly what happened to me here. And when you hear it you’d probably not want to share it with anyone else either. 

The track was so good that it deserved a playlist of its own. I put it on repeat and didn’t listen to anything else while I tried to think of an artist or a song that I could chase it with without losing the amazing feeling it evoked in my soul. The only track I found that could chase it was another track by the same artist Six9. No, not the snitch Six9ine with the colorful teeth and multicolored hair, the real Six9 – and there you were thinking you knew everything there was to know in hip hop, SMH. I’m being selfish with that track that I chased it with as well but I might share it with you a little bit later. I'll also share the playlist I'm creating around it once it's done. 

”Bounce Back” is a motivational record. If you have fallen on hard times and are struggling to get back up, it will get you off your ass and keep you on your feet till you are back in the game and at your best once again. If you are already at your best, it will motivate you to keep pushing the limits harder and harder everyday till your Jesus piece drops its jaw. Forget about every motivational hip hop track you’ve heard over the past decade, they’re all trash – that’s all I’m saying. If I’m wrong, recreate one of the millions of Will Smith slapping Chris Rock memes that are probably surfacing by the second on TikTok as we speak; and walk up to my office at London Bridge and slap me ever so softly. I’ll play along and make a little joke about it then go back to doing my work like nothing happened 😂. 

Oh I forgot to tell you – the minute you hit the play button the lyrics of this record could become deeply embedded in your brain for days, if not weeks. That's what happened to me. I almost lost it, but then I found my Jack Daniel's, phew! I’m still totally sedated right now, can you tell? 

Explicit.