I was the co-producer on three tracks. You'll know them when you hear them, because they're amazing.
Check out the boys at http://acoolstick.tumblr.com/
One Love
Jah lives
Eat Cookie dough
Friday, November 11, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Girls at the Bar: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
As you may or may not know, Dutch got dumped. Not really that recently, but enough so that when I get drunk, I do get a little misty-eyed and think about sending text messages to a person who isn't even in this country anymore. And those are the worst, because you can't take those back for, like, another 10 months.
Anyways, a few weeks after it happened, my buddy Shortcut Mike and I went out to watch some basketball, eat pizza, and drink IPA's. The bars in my neck of the woods are strange, in that there aren't many. That means that these bars have to work extra hard to help out the thirsty. Luckily for me, that means I don't have to work as hard with the Unusual Game ® to get a piece of strange.
You know your doing pretty well when only one girl at the bar is your age, and she's playing pool with some ol' coots, and she immediately asks you to save her. I took that feather, put it in my pimp cap, and posted up to enjoy myself and let it all play out.
Sure enough, she was over at my table 15 minutes later, looking for a slice. Shortcut Mike and I had just brought in an extra large with everything on it, except that instead of pepperoni and sausage, we went for chicken; I call it a Swap Meat ™.
Girl was hungry too, but not as much as the crackhead who was also hanging out at the bar- except that she was only a crackhead in attitude. She'd chew a piece and then spit it out on a napkin and walk away and put on her North Face to make a phone call outside on her iPhone.
So we're watching the watching the Warriors game, girl says she can get free tickets for us, I write my number on her arm, then she leaves with some other dude. Oh well. I'll just play some pool.
She comes back in, starts hanging out with another dude, who was a lot bigger and balder than me, so I knew from past experience this was not the girl to steal. I was getting a little confused as to why she told me her boyfriend was in Japan though...
But, I stayed focused, ignored her, and guess what? Sure enough, she was all over me. Out of sight out of mind, because the bald dude kept going to the bathroom, or standing in just the right spot behind a post or something. I just kept telling myself that he couldn't see me.
At first it was playful, and then I decided the night was getting played out, so I took her over to the Cruisin' USA machine and had her facing me while I was in the driver's seat trying to get through the damn Redwood Forest.
THE GOOD
It's not too often you get to have a little rodeo in public. She took her shirt off too, until the bartender threw a pitcher on us and told us that we were being unhygenic.
THE BAD
She was a little too drunk for even basic kissing functions. Not to knock her hustle, but I started to feel bad for her boyfriend.
THE UGLY
After I left, and she told me she loved me, the next day I get a phone call. It's her, and she's basically dictating (not so subtly) what I need to say to her boyfriend who then gets on the phone.
"Yeah bro, I'm wondering why my girl has has some number on her arm. She's saying something about basketball tickets, but she has a history of alcoholism and a problem with lying. So be straight with me, dude."
....
"No man, it was real casual."
It was the best I could do. It was not the time for my man to know, even though it seemed like he already knew. He thanked me for being honest, and was glad that his girl was still a good girl, because, "once a good girl's gone bad, she's gone forever."
Besides, he was probably just happy to see her after his long trip to Japan.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
Snitchin' Bill is Born
a photo of Prison from my Apartment
As I left Spanish class, my teacher warned me about staying out all night and missing class the next day. I assured her that Halloween on a Tuesday could not possibly be eventful enough to prevent me from my responsibilities as a scholar. In the back of my mind, however, I thought that it was poor form to schedule Halloween on a weekday.
This was 10 a.m. The next thing I knew, it was 10 p.m., and sitting in front of me was an empty case of beer. Wrapped around my neck was a large gold chain, with a matching sleeveless undershirt and neon and black tracksuit. My friend had decided to throw foreshadowing to the wind, dressed as “Prison Will” with a Saint Quentin blue button-down dress shirt and gold tooth. We were ready for Fell's Point.
What I think a ginny looks like
Halloween in America must be one of our stranger customs to the rest of the world, especially if one is casting their gaze on the Fell's Point district of Baltimore. A two-block stretch of bars next door to downtown, the Halloween party there stands second in size only to the festivities in Salem, Massachusetts. People in Baltimore live for two things: drinking all day on the infield of the Preakness Horse Races in the summer, and drinking all night on Halloween in Fell's Point.
It surprised me, then, that undercover police officers very quickly spotted me with a can of beer wandering amongst 50,000 people. At first I thought I was being arrested by a hobo, until he pulled his badge out from underneath his costume. I was quickly surrounded by several other officers. Clearly Billy Soprano had just become Enemy of the State. Once they caught me fumbling for my fake ID, however, they lightened up. You can tell because my friend took a picture of the confrontation, and my face is all smiles as they are slamming me against the hood of the squad car.
In their defense, the cops had great costumes
After disarming me of my beer and ID, the Baltimore PD released me back into the wild of the night, where I then bumped into a prospective girlfriend. She was attracted to my newly-found bad boy image, and for some reason I was digging her trucker hat and walrus-thin mustache. At this moment, I should have realized tonight was going to be a manly love kind of night.
Guess which one I've hooked up with?
SHE and I arranged to meet up later, and Prison Will and I kept walking. We basically acted like judges of a costume contest for the rest of the night, realizing that many girls must be impervious to the cold of fall Maryland nights. I was feeling slightly invincible as well, but not as much as my other friend John. It's hard to believe that someone dressed as Super Mario can appear out of nowhere to change your life forever, but that's the magic of Halloween. When we bumped into him, Super John was hungering for pizza (of course) and took us down the street to the local parlor. Along the way, he decided to smash his elbow through a storefront window.
It's always impressive the things that consume your interest when you're inebriated. As soon as Mario showed that he wasn't bleeding, we forgot about that window, and I spent five minutes staring at a run in a girl's fishnet tights. Unfortunately, the police officer standing at the end of the block did not. Mario ordered us a large pie, I took some pictures of girls and posed with my open alcohol container citation, and then Prison Will was escorted out of the parlor by Officer “How Stupid Can You Guys Be.”
Snagging a piece at the Pizza Parlor- Isn't Halloween awesome?
And that's Prison Will- nice costume...
Even more unfortunately, Mario thought that because he was buying us a pizza, he didn't need to confess to the crime. He just kept repeating his family creed, “They got nothing on us.” We never did get to eat that pizza. We all did get arrested however. For me, it had a little extra sting, because one of the cops who had just busted me less than an hour earlier had snatched me again. “We shoulda locked you up the first fucking time, you piece of shit! If my son was running around acting like you...”
At least I was helping her become a better parent.
The process of actually going to jail is pretty time consuming. First, you sit on the curb in plastic cuffs. Then you sit in the Police RV with zip-ties. They've got TV in the RV, but you only get Jay Leno, and the reception is a little snowy. Then they put the metal cuffs on you and throw you in the back of the paddy wagon with the rest of the night's low-lifes. Prison Will and I were a little overwhelmed; Mario, on the other hand, was having a blast. He even got to reconnect with an old friend who happened to be sitting next to him.
Once we arrived at our final destination, we got to mix it up with a few of the jail's other upcoming guests for the evening. It was 4 in the morning and I was sitting across from a very scary man who would not stop staring at me.
“I want one of yo' chains, boy,” he exclaimed, nodding towards my Halloween-themed Mardi Gras beads.
I had necklaces to spare, and would have been more than glad to have given him one, except that the cuffs were on really tight behind my back.
“I'll be seeing you at breakfast,” he fired back at my silence as he was escorted through processing. Not to spoil the story, but they don't give you a communal breakfast in jail. At the time though, I did not know that. It was one of a few things that kept me awake for the rest of that night. My new friend was confirming my suspicions that I looked like a prison bitch.
The moment I broke down was when they put me in front of the pay phone for my only call. In the age of cell phones, I could not remember one phone number, save my parents' 3,000 miles away. I toughened up quickly, and went into my cell quietly, sharing it with a few other guys who were looking a lot worse for wear than me, even though the cops had confiscated my jacket and given me a replacement one made of material akin to insulation.
Halloween is Christmas for the police. They can arrest whoever they want, for whatever reason, and you get to spend a couple hours in the drunk tank. I left the jail being charged with an adverb. Somewhere, I have a record with the word “Disorderly” stamped on it. Prison Will and Mario had to go to court to settle their differences of opinion on who truly deserves the charges of property damage and seven years of bad luck. For me, it all amounted to a fairly effective Scared Straight program.
For my other cellmates, maybe not so much. The guy in front of me at the checkout line joked, "See you next weekend!" as he rolled out with his belongings. I got all my chains back and walked away as quickly as possible.
As we left the jail at 2 p.m. the next day, all I really cared about was, “How was I going to explain all of this to my teacher, in Spanish?”
Winning.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Support our Own
A call to any who still read this site. Click on this link and view our own Nick "Sniggle Snaggles, Snick Snack Give a Dog A Joint, Snikliw" Wilkin's own ski video. Sniggles does all the 540's and it's amazing. Please like this on the facebook page to send him to superstardom. Thank you.
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