A short time back, I had a mild interest in getting a workout by taking a self-defense class. It's so hot here that if you attempt to go outside and exercise you could drop dead from heat exhaustion or sun stroke, so I thought looking into some of the local indoor gyms could be worth investigating. Many businesses down here will offer your first session free. The first I tried was a South Beach boxing gym. Once I signed in, I was handed a ridiculously over sized pair of boxing gloves. Like the kind you'd imagine two bikini clad spring breakers being hosed down with bottles of Budweiser wearing. The next 30 minutes involved an apathetic instructor who was obviously an aspiring male model play with his iphone while he yelled things like "annnd JUMPING JACKS!!-2-3-4-5-annnd PUSH UPS!!-2-3-4-5!!" while obnoxious techno music blared. There were heavy bags hanging to the left and right of us and never once did he teach anyone how to properly throw a punch. He would just yell "NOW PUNCH THE BAG AS FAST AS YOU CAN FOR 30 SECONDS!!". His demands were so random and changed so quickly that at one point I dropped down to the ground to begin my 1st push up and he already was on 5 and yelling "CRUNCHES!!-2-3-4-5". I sat there on the ground and looked at him. He wasn't even paying attention to anyone. I didn't see him look up for the next 3 minutes as he barked orders. I took off my boxing gloves, took them to the counter and just walked out the door. I'm not even sure if Clubber Wang saw me leave.
My next experiment was a small Jiu-Jitsu class being held on the second floor, above a dirty looking bodega. There were 8 of us and the instructor in this pretty small, matted room. He had us start off by warming up. We did the usual push-ups, sit-ups, jumping jacks, and ran around this mat in tight circles. I have to admit, this instructor seemed to know what he was doing and was giving us his undivided attention. I was working up quite a sweat and thinking this could be what I was looking for. Next he demonstrated some defense moves. I followed along, pretending I was Storm Shadow. Then we moved on to grappling, which turned to be my downfall. It's my own fault I didn't really research Jiu-Jitsu ahead of time to see that it's mainly a grappling self-defense. The instructor asked one of the most experienced students to come forward and he demonstrated taking the guy down to the mat and then squeezing together his appendages like an giant anaconda. The veins in the students neck were throbbing and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets as he was crushed to submission. I immediately was like Fuu-uuuck Me when he told us to pair up with a partner. Next thing I know I'm on the ground getting hog-tied with my own limbs. My partner is all on me, shifting around and I can't help thinking that maybe he's more into this than he should be. I am in South Beach, after all. As I am cursing myself for my current situation and already planning my escape as soon as this class is over, the guy flips me on my back and twists my arm painfully, putting all his weight on my chest. The next part happened in slow motion. I remember looking up and seeing his face inches from mine in a sweaty snarl of dominating pleasure. One particular drop of perspiration between his eyes began to snowball down his face, picking up more sweltering secretions and finally dropping off the end of his nose. It seemed for what felt like forever, and landed on my cheek, centimeters from the corner of my mouth. I was pinned down, unable to move and whimpering in revulsion. As soon as I was unshackled, I went home and took an extremely long shower, never to return.
I've got shark's teeth so I can bite your head I've got tiger's claws that will scratch you dead I've got wings like a dragon when I'm flying above Shoot venom from my eyes when it's time to get rough So step back, and check yourself This MC's got weapons that'll ruin your health So if you're feeling strong then reach for yours My book is my shield and my mic is my sword
I've been meaning on posting something about MCA after he passed away last May (Neal actually brought up posting some of their hardcore stuff on his blog at but-id-rather-be-sleeping, but so far he hasn't done shit). The Beastie Boys were such an integral part of my life. I remember getting "Licensed To Ill" on cassette the summer before 8th grade and blasting it through our boom box while my brother and I played strike-out in our front driveway, foul balls occasionally breaking neighbor's windows. It was the first rap album that we loved & learned every song. It's an understatement to say the Beasties were the soundtrack to our youth. "Paul's Boutique" release was when we were all getting our driver's licenses and playing the cassette in our cars as we cruised the nights and wreaked havok on our small town.
We all dressed in black...we snuck up around the back...we began to attack...the eggs did crack on Haze's back
We actually did a drive-by egging on a bouncer while cranking "Eggman". He was sitting on a chair shmoozing with a girl outside of this venue called The Globe and as we walked by he said to her loudly "Look at these losers". Well, we went back to our apartment, grabbed all the eggs out of the fridge and a half filled tub of expired yogurt and hopped in our friends car. The venue was near a lit intersection, so we timed it that when the traffic light turned red we pulled up curbside to the venue. Two of us exited the rear of the vehicle, "EggMan" spilling out into the evening. We unloaded all the eggs on his ass with no mercy. The girl ran away screaming, eggs exploded off his body in rapid succession. While he stumbled there stunned, we asked him back loudly, "Who's the loser now? Yolk's on you!!" My friend then took a step forward and lobbed the tub of rancid yogurt into his face. Before he could even react, we were back in the car and our getaway driver took off, a perfectly timed green light in the distance.
Some static started...in the pool hall...hit a motherfucker's face...with the cue ball...
This one time I requested "Car Thief" at a this bar/indie dance club Mad Planet and some frat guy kept purposefully knocking into me, spilling my drink. I looked at him and punched him in the face as fast as I could. I remember falling to the ground during the commotion and all his frat buddies trying to kick me. My fingers felt like they dug into the wood floor and I pulled myself up and ran out the front door and jumped in a bush to my immediate right. They all ran out the bar and past me like a Scooby Doo cartoon! HaHa!! Good Times!
Brother now...I'd like to ask you how...you like to feel the bass in your face in the crowd
The first time I saw the Beasties was on their "Check Your Head" tour, my freshman year of college at UW-Milwaukee. They played at the Rave, a medium sized venue, and Basehead (bought their cd "Play With Toys" ahead of time at Atomic Records) and Firehose (first time I heard "Slack Motherfucker" and to this day still LOVE the song & prefer their version to Superchunk's original) opened up the show. For some reason, the venue had the drinking crowd (21+) on the main floor and the 20 and younger in the balcony. At that point in time, we outnumbered the older crowd like 10 to 1. The balcony was PACKED. I still remember to this day that it was so hot up there, the ceiling was dripping sweat from the heat of the crammed bodies. Below us there were definitely a mass of people, but it was sparse. The lights went out and we saw the shadows of some figures running to the stage. Then in complete darkness "Slow and Low" began. By the time the beginning chorus ended, light burst open onto the stage and Mike D started up their trademarked lyrical exchange. The balcony went ballistic. There were speakers everywhere. They were placed in a gradual incline towards the second floor. MCA climbed two sets of speakers and started pulling kids out of the balcony. They were slowly dropping to the stage and rushing out to the main floor. Next thing you know, kids were actually climbing over the guardrail and hanging as far as they could until dropping to the lower level. So many people were doing it, they couldn't stop it. It was complete anarchy and the show never stopped. I've seen hundreds of shows and that's one I'll never forget.
Smoking and drinking on a Tuesday Night...
I saw them a few other times throughout the years. Lollapalooza was fun. The Ill Communication Tour on a rotating stage with Tribe Called Quest opening up was another goodie. I actually saw my future wife in the crowd at that one and went home with a black eye and bloody lip thanks to the pit that erupted during "Heart Attack Man". That album was the soundtrack to my friends and I living on our own for the first time, partying every night, drinking forties while playing NHL hockey on Sega Genesis stoned. From seeing the video of my favorite song "Rhyme The Rhyme Well" off the album "To The 5 Boroughs" on a television in a popkin shop in Bulgaria, to hunting down their recent limited "Record Store Day" vinyl releases, to their last 2011 album "Hot Sauce Committee Part Two" making my best of the year list... I have always been excited about news from MCA, Mike D & Ad Rock...and I thought they would be one of those bands that would be around forever. Aging into a straight up instrumental funk band like they made famous on "The In Sound From Way Out!". I never pictured them not being Three.
Brotherhood, youth, ignorance, innocence, friendship, boom boxes, turntables, smoke machines, strobe lights, plastic cups, house parties, intoxication praying mantis style, fist fights, enlightenment, cruising, debauchery, laughter, snowboarding, record hunting at Atomic, playing hack at Jerry Ct, make out sessions, one night stands, true love, ...these are the images and sensations I feel when I hear the Beastie Boys. Mike D, Ad Rock and MCA. Thank You.
I never had jock itch before I lived on the surface of the Sun, and like Nate Dogg sang it "Ain't No Fun". The itch is omnipotent. Crotch rot is an infectious fungus which lives and thrives in warm, moist areas...also known as South Florida. I always thought jock itch was centralized to the area between your inner thighs and groin area, but NO...it creeps all the way up onto your balls for Pete's Sake! All you can do for temporary relief is constantly yank at your sack! It seemed that my good ol' go-to bottle of Gold Bond ball powder just couldn't compete with the never yielding dog day dankness of Dade County. After a series of small victories thanks to an aerosol sprayed assault of Lotrimin AF, I was able to kill the cursed beast once and for all. During this time, I heard an ad on Howard Stern for a product called Fresh Balls. I listened to the testimonials and at this point was willing to try anything. I submitted my order and got free shipping thanks to the Howard Stern promotional code. My bottle arrived within the week and I didn't hesitate to slap it on my sweaty sack!
JGoon's Application Procedure:
1. Shake before use (the lotion, not your dork)
2. Put a small amount in your hand and rub over your balls and inner thigh. Think of the boundaries being your shaft and taint. Don't be afraid to get all up in there! At this stage, for some reason I make a funny face consisting of intense concentration and instant relief from the coolness of the application. If my wife catches me amidst this procedure, she makes fun of this face and will mimic my expression.
3. WASH YOUR HANDS YOU DIRTY ANIMAL!
4. At this point you want it to dry. I'll usually manually fan myself with my boxers or a towel, but if at all possible I will use my wife's hair dryer and set the fan for cool. Oh my lord, it's a mind scramble.
I've been using Fresh Balls for about a year or more and am happy to report I've had no more visits from the fungal fairy! The product is advertised as aluminum free and not tested on animals, so just like your balls, you can give your conscience a rest. A tube usually lasts me a couple of months. I do admit I still have to powder the doughnuts a few times after work, but remember I do live on the extreme side of hot & humid climate. Fresh Balls has definitely made it more tolerable for my nether regions to exist in this clammy netherworld.
1. Went to Einsteins in Miami Beach. Saw a sign advertising a bagel, w/ regular cream cheese and medium coffee for $3.99.
"I'll have a bagel toasted with cream cheese and a medium iced coffee" "OK that'll be $4.91"
"Oh....I thought the sign said $3.99"
(squints to look at sign like it's never been seen before) "Oh that's not for iced coffee"
"...But the picture shows an iced coffee" "Yeah, they send us a lot of those deals on posters but they don't work here"
Went to Einsteins again. I've got a quick 5 minutes to grab a
bagel and iced coffee. There is a sloppy, obese woman paying for
her purchase at the register who proceeds to pull out a purse of all
coins and dump them on the counter. I then watch, as the minutes slip by,
that the person behind the counter and la hefe are trying to pick out
the US coins apart from whatever other cocksucking currency she
has in her purse. My time is up, I turn around and walk out the door.
They are still picking out american nickels. I'll pick at my lunch for
3. Walked my Pooch last night at 9pm. We (as did at least
a dozen people) walked by a homeless twenty-something who smelled
absolutely vomit inducing putrid, his pants were below his ass and he
had a vice grips and a coathanger in a parking meter. He was wrenching
and wrenching on it and then moved to the next and nobody seemed to
care. HAHAHA!!! I'M LOSING MY MIND!!!!
4. They've finally installed pedestrian crossing
poles/markers/things in the middle of the road at every crossing on West
Ave. Sounds good in theory. Biggest problem though is that people
don't know what the fuck they mean so they treat every one like a 4-way
stop! Takes an extra 20 minutes to drive down West to get to our
building....GOOD CHRIST LET ME LEAVE THIS FUCKING BACKWARDS WORLD I
CAN'T TAKE IT!!!!HAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHA!!!!