Archive | January, 2013

Oliver North

27 Jan

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“Here you go nigger you should put this in ya pocket
I don’t give a fuck, if you sniff or you rock it.
you really hard up you can steal you a locket
find yourself a gun that you can use or can hock it.”

He’s the Dopeman, the Dopeman the real deal Dopeman.
Got his corners spread out all across the land man.
wanna get your start just call your Uncle Sam man.
He dont’ give a shit if you a woman or a man, man

cuz he’s the Dopeman the Dopeman, the real deal Dopeman
pushing more weight than anybody can.
wanna a little taste he’ll put it in your hand man
the community’s destroyed he don’t give a damn man .

All across the globe is a different clientele
the baseheads, the crackheads, the Mexican cartels
Taliban, Escobar, Hoover, Manuel
Frank White, Rick Ross, everybody sells.

get too big and he’ll bring you to your knees bitch
Yank it out from under you he sees you getting too rich
Make your ass an example and put it all in newsprint
massive drug seizure by the FBI unit.

Poppy plant poppy plant coca cola leaf
little niggas, old folks buy yourselves a wreath
drug shits an animal with razor sharp teeth
ripping chunks from that ass to give its owner meat.

Now who’s the Dopeman the Dopeman the real deal Dopeman?
The one who got his corners spread out across the land man?
He don’t give a fuck if you’s a woman or a man, man
get yourself a hit and put the money in his hand man.

The Dopeman, the Dopeman the muthafuckin Dopeman
sell you more hope than a preacher or the pope can
wanna hang yourself he’ll sell you the rope man
he don’t give a fuck he’s the motherfuckin Dopeman

Now they slanging on the corners selling itty bitty sacks
selling for the man making loot off people’s backs
you think he gives a fuck bout your little pennies Black?
He making fuckin billions off the knowledge that you lack

The industry the pharmacies are turning you to zombies
seroquel prozac abilify you dummies
cocaine and television for when you feeling crummy
They outlaw the Mary Jane so you’ll drink the gin rummy

You aint got no helicopter , you aint got no boats
but they run you up the river like it aint no fuckin joke
doing time in prison for that little gram of coke
they found in your pockets or the lining of your coat.

So who’s the Dopeman the Dopeman the genuine Dopeman?
The big money guy bringing shit to this land man
Got his own news show while you sitting on the stand man
Just another mark who got pulled into his plan man.

The Dopeman the Dopeman the motherfucking Dopeman
sell you more hope than the muthafucking pope can
Wanna hang yourself here’s a chair and some rope man
he don’t give a fuck he’s the motherfucking Dopeman.

~Bmick Tha Click Picka~

And why not a Malcolm X day?

19 Jan

As we approach MLK day, I want to further espouse my belief that brother Malcolm X did just as much for African Americans as Dr. Martin Luther King. If we are not going to recognize his contribution to the civil rights struggle here and abroad and give him his own day (and Americans another day of observance) then can we at least give him a U.S. stamp?

I’m just saying. And anybody who thinks he stood for violence as opposed to MLK’s view on non-violence I urge them to look at this clip and many others like this:

Malcolm

March Madness begins in the Winter

19 Jan

Its different living in a non NBA city. Part of the fun of living in places like Portland and Oakland was the passion for NBA hoops. I was fortunate enough to see a Blazers game at the Rose Garden, and lived in Oakland during the crazy ’07 run by Don Nelson’s Warriors.

Pretty much since the great class of 2003 NCAA hoops has been a thing where I stop in to see who next good NBA baller will be. The gap in the quality of play is about as wide between the NBA and NCAA as it is between the NBA and WNBA (Men vs. Boys). The few times I stop in are the UNC-DUKE matchups (one day I will blow a grand to see that match-up in Cameron Indoor)and the NCAA tourney.

Living in Austin during this time period is a funny one. I moved here in ’01 knowing that UT athletics was on the verge of some fun times. The football team was in the hunt for a national title every year, and even the T.J. Ford led Horns were making some noise on the hardwood. Now both programs are perennial disappointments.

Looking ahead at the basketball schedule, I noticed some interesting games to be held in the drum this year despite the quality of Rick Barnes’ squads. I circled a few early before the season began, especially the game with KU, and UNC.

I even had a nice little week where I’d get to see three players that interested me. James McAdoo, C.J. McCollum, and Tony Mitchell. The UNC game would be easy, as the Tarheels would be coming to Austin. I’d have to travel to Denton to watch McCollum play against Mitchell.

UNC was actually coming to town. Legitimately one of the real blue bloods of college basketball–royalty.There was a semblance of historic awe about the game. UNC was historically a title contender and at this point the ‘Heels were a top ten team. I figured everything would be there to see the blood bath, what I’m sure no one guessed was the UT would be doing the blood letting.

I was trying to get a real gauge on this James Michael Mcadoo kid.
The Media had been hyping this kid up, with he and Strickland being the only legit returnees that I knew about.
From the tip off, things seemed to be off with UNC.

The first five minutes were a little blah.

From the onset, UT started pounding them on the boards. UNC’s offense seemed like it could never get into a rhythm and definitely had problems getting easy buckets. The Horns hustled down after every bucket on transition and UNC was not able to run the fast tempo offense that Roy Williams generally implements.

Part of the problem was that UT played very good defense and took smart shots on the offensive end, limiting Carolina’s fast break points. But it was also obvious that Roy lacks a true floor general. His teams generally only go as far as his backcourts would take him.

Rashaad McCants, Raymond Felton, Kendall Marshall, Ty Lawson, Rex Walters and Adonis Jordan, Kirk Hinrich and Aaron Miles and Jacque Vaughn

Well this team sorely lacked the kind of guy who could make everyone else’s jobs easier. They had to fight for each and every bucket and it took forever for them to get into an offensive set.

Even worse Macadoo seemed like an over-hyped dud. Bro was whining about the refs, whining when his teammates didn’t get him the ball. One time he fell down on a play and appeared to hurt himself and it took nearly two minutes before a couple of North Carolina’s bench-warmers came to check on him. The rest of the squad went to the huddle.

Which made me wonder if Mcadoo is even liked by his own team. His body language during the game reeked of Primadonna. It made sense. His uncle was Bob McAdoo. He was light skinned and (we all know that light skinned people think they are better than everyone—white people because they got a little color and black people because they got a little white in them).

But I’d seen crybabies like him before, guys like JR Giddens and Kellen Winslow II came to mind.

And in all my years of going to UT games and watching UT games. I haven’t seen such an empty stadium since the Tom Penders days. The venue was half empty lots of empty seats and burnt orange fans sprinkled with the powder blue. I had no idea so many UNC grads/fans lived in Austin.

Carolina Blue supporters went home disappointed. Go back to Tobacco Road, put that L in your pies and smoke it.

Carolina Blue supporters went home disappointed. Go back to Tobacco Road, put that L in your pies and smoke it.

That being said, that is the loudest I’d heard that venue since the T.J. Ford days and those games would be packed. The fans were in a frenzy and you could tell it was affecting the play of both teams. UT was clearly feeding off the energy while UNC seemed baffled half the time. It was ugly. I thought old Roy was gonna have another heart attack—the poor guy.

I wouldn’t be surprised if old Roy hangs it up in the next couple of years. He doesn’t look like he’s having much fun, and what else does he have to accomplish really? He’s in the twilight of his years. It may be time for him to do something else. Who knows.

The very next night I found myself in Denton, Tx. 3 rd row at the Super Pit. There were 58 NBA personnel there in attendance to see the matchup of Lehigh vs. UNT. I had seats right behind the Lehigh bench. C.J. McCallum the nation’s leading scorer was facing off against Tony Mitchell.

Mitchell of course, I’d seen a few times the previous year, during his freshman campaign. He was undoubtedly the best player to come through Denton since Sheldon Williams’ little brother played there. He fell into the laps of the Mean Green because of some academic problems that prevented Mitchell (a local boy from Pinkston)from playing at Mizzou.

He played well during his freshman campaign but the Mean green didn’t do well enough to make the NCAA tourney. The last time I had seen him play he’d air-balled a potential game winning trey against Arkansas State (former school of Arthur Agee from Hoop Dreams).

This was something I’d been looking forward to for a while, so you can imagine my surprise when I found out that McCallum, the point guard who dominated Duke in the NCAA’s last year wouldn’t be playing. What a dick tease.

Donnie Nelson who’d come to check it out, left early to go see the Mavs take a shellacking from the visiting Miami Heat.

I thought about leaving but decided to stay just because I’d come so far, buying a ticket a head of time, and coming up from Austin. I was glad I stayed. Mitchell had an okay game, didnt put up any real numbers until the game was out of hand.

Lehigh put it on the Mean Green. They have other players besides C.J. (who hung out on the bench in a brown suit helping his teammates with any tidbits he may have seen from the sideline—if the NBA doesnt work out for him he may be a great coach).

They are a great passing team, got rebounds when they needed and shot the 3 ball well. I could see them getting to sweet sixteen (and further depending on if they get McCallum back for the NCAA’s—he may shut it down for the year though). I could even see them beating Duke again.

After seeing what he had done against Duke last year I was convinced he’d be the best PG in the coutnry this year. I was pretty bummed I didn’t get to see him play.

As for Mitchell, one of the scouts was overheard saying that Mitchell would be best suited to stay in college a year. The new coach for the Mean green is pretty terrible and seems like a control freak, Mitchell may decide his best option is to go to Europe and play for a while before he’s NBA ready.

Fans and NBA scouts were screwed out of seeing what could have been private NBA workout in little old Denton, Texas

Fans and NBA scouts were screwed out of seeing what could have been private NBA workout in little old Denton, Texas

This Saturday I’m excited to go see Ben Mclemore play for KU at the Erwin center. I mistakenly thought that this year’s Jayhawks team would be boring. Part of that was the media’s attempt at portraying Jeff Withey as the go to player on the team. I’d seen plenty of what he had done last year and didn’t think he was the kind of guy to be the feature dude (I saw Nick Collison play and Withey was no Nick Collison—not by a long shot).

I judged the Jayhawks too harshly after the game against Michigan State because the game was so boring. I remember thinking there was no way I was making a trip up to Lawrence just to fall asleep in the rafters of Phog Allen court.

Then I heard about this McLemore kid, who apparently played AAU ball with Bradley Beal. I had a free Saturday afternoon to watch the Ohio State game and bro brought it. He came with it and willed the Jayhawks to a with timely scoring. The role players of course played very well, Travis Releford shipped in, Elijah Johnson played a solid game, and Withey had some blocks and boards, and of course my boy Kevin Young made timely plays(seems like something good always happened when he was in the game).

Last Tuesday though I was watching NBA and didn’t think to flip over to watch the KU- Iowa State game. The ticker would come up on the television and I saw the game was close but settled for highlights of the game. It ended in classic Allen Fieldhouse fashion with McLemore hitting a 3 to send it into overtime. They of course went on to win.

So this will be a treat, got a great seat for the game, it’ll be the day after my birthday, and I’m sure the KU faithful will bring their “Rock Chalk “ chants down here with them and fill up the Erwin Center with the blue and scarlet. The only question is when they do the Rock Chalk Chant, will I find myself swept up in it and chant along? And just as importantly am I allowed to as fan but not as an alumnus? Is it as elite a club as the Jews where conversion and immersion is absolutely necessary?

Honestly I don’t know, but I got a nice birthday present in the mail. It is as if God him(her)self is chanting for me to go to grad school in Lawrence.

No confusion as to who I will be rooting for on Saturday

No confusion as to who I will be rooting for on Saturday

Welcome to Austin,TX Jayhawk fans. Hope you have a safe and fun time while you are down here.

Shout out to Longdistancejayhawk.com.

I stand corrected

19 Jan

As much as I enjoy being right, I never thought being so wrong about anything could be so good, and so delicious.

Wow, I thought Franklin’s was the best barbecue I’d ever tasted. And it was, I couldn’t imagine bbq tasting better than the rib’s at Franklin’s. Thinking back on it now, it was kind of like when I thought the girlfriend I had when I was 22 was the best sex I’d ever had. I had no perspective.

Before I start let me say this: there are various myths about Austin. One is that its the
Live Music capital of the world. If this means that everywhere in Austin is a potential place for some singer songwriter to play shitty folk music, then yes that is true.

You throw a rock in the air and you’ll hit a singer-songwriter type. Does this mean that its the best music scene? I’ll go a head and save you the trouble of coming to see for yourself. The answer is NO. The hip hop scene is fairly small and unheralded. The jazz scene is bullshit, in fact you’d find a more eclectic patch of music in Denton, Texas, home of UNT.

From what little I know, I would go on record and say Portland’s music scene is more interesting than Austin’s.

Now every magazine and every television show in America wants to anoint Franklin’s as the king of barbecue. And they wanna Aaron Franklin, they can crown him. Hell I was ready to do that myself a few months ago

To quote Wayne Coyne, suddenly everything had changed.

Late one night I struck up a conversation with a bus driver. He was on his last route, and was heading home to Lockhart, Texas, a town with a reputation for having killer barbecue.

He discussed how different the sausage was in Lockhart and that there were 3 main places to go, Smitty’s, Black’s and Krewses.

His favorite was Smitty’s.

He said Smitty’s was hands down the best in town.

A month after that fateful conversation, My buddy threw a bachelor party down on the Frio river and his older brother thought it was a good idea to grab some Smitty’s on the way there by taking a tiny detour out to Lockhart.

The store is located downtown, a small cute downtown which immediately made me think of Denton’s town square. We walked into the restaurant and opened the screen door. Black soot covered the walls from years of burning wood.

Whooooaaa carcinogens.

My friend’s older brother bought enough for everyone who would be there. It was over a hundred dollar’s worth. We picked up the lbs of meat and got into the van.

“Well” he said. “We gotta at least try it before we go down there.”

The groom to be handed out a slice of bread for each of us, and a little slice of brisket.

The van got real quiet and we all looked at each other and silently agreed that this was some phenomenal barbecue. I couldn’t believe that we had found something not only as good as Franklin’s, but so much better. There was no doubt about it.

We then moved on to the ribs (for quality control purposes obviously) and could not believe how tasty and tender the meat was. How could this be?

Needless to say that anyone who came out to the cabin past 9:00 pm didnt get anything to eat. We thought it would last –tried to make it last, but it was impossible.

The food was too good. And not only was the meat good, but the sides were delicious too. I loved how the potato salad tasted, not too creamy, not too tangy, just the right amount of mayonnaise and mustard to go with the egg and potato, and pickle. Yum.

The beans were good too. I didn’t try the cole slaw unfortunately.

From what I hear, Smitty’s is the best in town. Black’s is the second best. So now I’m left wondering if what I know is to be true. Franklin’s was like Adam Morrison, and Smitty’s was like Lebron. They didn’t even use sauce either! It was nuts, this was a real game changer.

If there is a better bbq joint out there, I’d like to know where this place is (if it exists). But I honestly don’t know how this could be possible.

I haven’t been to Franklins since then. I still mean every word about all the great things I said about the Franklin Barbecue franchise (I have never had more positive experiences in one restaurant before–everyone who works there is extremely appreciative and hospitable–even more so than Smitty’s). But the people at Smitty’s could be a staff full of dickheads and it wouldn’t stop me from eating there.

And now it seems foolish to wait 2 hours in line when better bbq is only a 20 minute ride away (with no line)

I had some friends in town from Portland recently. One of them was in town a few months ago, and back then I was talking up how good Franklin’s was and how we needed to go there. He had just gotten back in town and brought up Franklin’s.

“ Fuck Franklins” I said.

“But you said–”

“ Man I know what I said, man, but I found something better.”

“ Oh for real? I thought maybe they had banned you from there, the way you said ‘Fuck them’ so quickly.”

“Nah man. Its good, but I found something that will knock your socks off.”

They looked at me, whispered things about hyping it up too much (I cant blame them I had talked Franklin’s up to be the end all be all).

“You should undersell it” He said.

“Maybe, but I have confidence that Smitty’s will deliver.”

And they did. They chewed their food, speechless and nodding their heads in agreement that the shit was legit.

I felt like “Sir Smoke a lot” from Half Baked when he pledges his allegiance to “Mr. Nice Guy”

When life gets shitty
I pick up a twenty
and head out to Lockhart
eat something that makes me fart……

Fuck Franklins’s!!!

This lady who looked 60 years old sat down near us with her elderly parents (there are only long community picnic tables in the restaurant)–locals. We chatted with them in between bites. I told her how my friends were from Portland and blah blah blah blah…..

She said “ Welcome to Lockhart, Texas, home of the best bbq in the world.

No one even blinked when she said it. We knew it was probably true.

I kind of feel like I did them a disservice by taking them straight there without taking them to someplace shittier first. They could easily go through life without any kind of perspective, not realizing that this may be the best they would ever get to taste. BBQ from this moment on would be disappointing. It was like having sex for the first time without a condom, or the first time I smoked really good bud and Mexican dirt weed became obsolete.

Life is never the same again. No going back. Which was why I had to quit going to Franklin’s. I could no longer stand in line and pretend it was worth the wait, thinking how just up the road was something much more grand. For a while I kept going by, stopping in if the lines were short, because it was down the street from my house. But it had become a matter of convenience now, and biting into their meat only reminded me where I was not. And that wasn’t fair to anybody, especially my suddenly picky palette.

From now on, and possibly the rest of my life, my new motto will be “if we ain’t eating Smitty’s then we ain’t eating barbecue.”

photo (2)

The Myth of Notre Dame

19 Jan

Much like when the media looked stupid for sucking on Paterno’s dong for so long in the 80’s, kissing Paterno’s ass for so many years, the myth of Notre Dame is threatening to come apart at the seams.

Everyone was drinking the Manti Te’o kool aid. Everybody but me.

I am a reknowned and unapologetic Notre Dame hater. The media lapped at the leprechan’s tiny little nutsack like there was gold in his testes.

Much like when the “U” played Pedo State, the media vilified Jimmy Johnson and the Hurricanes, billing the matchups as the Catholics vs. the Convicts (even though there were many Catholics on those Miami squads). It was the battle of good vs. evil.

Every year Notre Dame is ranked higher than they should be and this year was no different. Yea I know they were undefeated, but who did they really beat? I am still convinced that Stanford got jobbed out of that OT game in South Bend.

Did I enjoy that ass whupping Bama put on them? Oh you betcha, every minute of it. It was even better than watching Lebron put it on the Lakers last night (refreshing to see him do to someone besides my Thunder boys).

As much as I hated ND, I had to give it to Te’o. He was looking raw all year long (except when Bama’s Lacy trucked his ass in the open field). I figured they would give his ass the Heisman based on his “life story” a la John Cappelletti.

Surely they would not give a Heisman to a freshman. But they did, electing not to give it to a defensive player only, and making the right choice for so many reasons (imagine had he won that motherfucker–what a scandal that would have been).

I’ve read some great articles with great angles, and I’ve heard and read all kinds of theories

from Bill Simmons

to Jason Whitlock.

I originally thought that perhaps he was indeed in on the hoax, but that was way too dark of a conclusion to jump to (and possibly too simple of an explanation).

My theory:

His homeboy was pranking on him for a minute and by the time Te’o figured it out, the Michigan State game had already happened. So at this point, he could either go public with his embarrassment, or ride with it. I imagine something like that would be difficult for a 22 year old masculine all American linebacker to do,especially once the subplot went national.

How do you stop a train that gains such momentum especially a train with an engine like the Notre Dame PR machine?

And here’s another angle. Isn’t Te’o a Mormon? Is it that far-fetched for a man who can suspend his disbelief in reality enough to become a Mormon, to become catfished by his buddy for a span of a couple of years( Hell Grantland has a contributing writer who himself was catfished and they made a movie about it) The desire for a heaven can be quite alluring for some, one may argue that a woman’s warm vagina is simply Heaven incarnated.

And who’s to say who knew what when? Who’s to say that Manti didn’t try to come clean earlier and Notre Dame’s spin machine put the kaibosh on it?

“No. You will play through this Manti. And you will play valiantly as the hero you are, as an exemplary warrior that represents Notre Dame. You will become the FIFTH Horsemen. Say nothing to no one about this. We got you.

The poor fucker probably didn’t know what do? And as much as I hate agreeing with Bill Simmons, I would believe anything about this story at this point. The story is just too weird and so out of control.

These songs go out to you Manti.

Birthday Thoughts

10 Jan

Brotha Brotha Brotha Brotha Brotha Brotha Brotha
34 yrs old and you still causing trouble
spending all your free time hoppin on the bubble
shooting for the moon like your name was Carl Hubbell
Hitting lots of singles trying to stretch it to a double.

L to the Ron to the Hubbard yo
Got Tom Cruise in the cupboard so
John Travolta got his lovers though
who really gives a fuck if its behind closed doors?

I got my sight, I still got my health
Getting out and still enjoying myself
Gots no kids so still got my wealth
Got 3 books upright on my shelf

Now if you think I’d do it differently
you’d probably be right
Chasing all the hoochies in the middle of the night
now the girls be chasing me towards the guiding light.

But I’ve got few regrets, coulda been much worse
I never stole cigarettes out of my mamma’s purse
she never had to take a ride behind my coffin’s hearse
she never was in earshot to hear my muttered curse(s)

So brutha brutha brutha brutha brutha brutha brutha
What you gonna do when you no longer have a mother?
What you gonna do to become a better brother?
What you gonna do to become a better brother?
What you gonna do to become a better brother?

~BMick tha pick clickpicka~