He admits that he's corny, but he'll smoke you with his knowledge.
A few weeks ago, I came across this video on YouTube doing research on hip hop samples for a project. DJ Funktuall from Brooklyn has put together an amazing series of videos going over the origins of famous hip hop breakbeats and samples. I've posted the first video, and I will tell you now you'll breeze through the nine videos he has so far in one sitting (I'm guilty of it).
Enjoy...
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label me. Show all posts
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I gots me a tattoo.
It's all downhill from here...
After many different concepts, drafts, and a tragic accident, I got my first tattoo on 4/20 (dude...). I've been wanting to get one for a while now. I didn't want to get one of the stereotypical douchbag tattoos that are out there; barbed wire, tribal bands, Japanese kanji, Cap'n Crunch. I needed this to be different.
My first tattoo was going to be based on a character that was a part of a card game like Pokemon, or Magic the Gathering if you will. Sounds lame, but hold on. The game had a pimping/drug dealing theme. The character's name was "Super Ochenta," Spanish for Super Eighty. Don't know what that's supposed to mean, but I thought it was a cool piece of art...
Super Ochenta
I felt this guy was like a very cool homage to the Latin culture; a big ass cigar, the dope Panama hat, the fly beard, and it kinda-sorta-maybe-possibly looked like me. I was really feeling this.
I was going to get it done April of 2007 in exchange for designing a website for an amazing artist I met through my brother and his roommate. Monica Henk was going to be the one to bless my arm with it. Unfortunately, while riding her motorcycle to school, some heartless bastard struck her with his/her SUV, shooting her over 100 feet, and drove away. She died on impact, but was resuscitated at the scene by EMTs, and taken to the hospital. She died five days later. The killer is still out there.
Getting a tattoo after that didn't feel right, so I sat on it for months. Near the end of 2007, I was feeling that the time was right to get a tattoo done, but I didn't want to get Super Ochenta. I felt that Monica was the one that was supposed to do it, so I decided to get something else. This time around, it was going to be completely original. I wanted a portrait of myself, but with a twist. It's a portrait of me, but as a skull. For weeks, I was thinking about what elements of my personality I wanted in this piece. I decided to have a goatee, a cigar, and of course a 504 Style Kangol.
I can't draw to save my life, so I went to my artist friends to make a few designs. Nothing really caught my eye, until a young girl by the name of Alorah came up with a few dope designs for me...
The one on the top left corner was what I picked, so I was on my way to getting it done. The only pesky detail was finding an awesome tattoo artist. I was researching a few spots in the NY, but I couldn't find the right place. That's where my bro came in. When the new year arrived, my brother visited True Blue Tattoo in Queens, NY. That was one of the shops Monica worked at. He got to talking to a few of the artists, and hit it off real well with Hillary. She ended up doing a few of his tattoos. He had nothing but rave reviews about her, so I decided to get my arm done the same day he went to get a touch up on a tattoo of his.
After Scotty got his touch up done, it was my turn. I gave her the sketch, and she wanted to modify it so the skull looked more realistic. I gave her the green light to make any changes needed to make it as dope as possible. A half hour later, she finished her sketch. The skull did look more realistic, got rid of the cigar ("It looks like a joint"), and changed the look of the Kangol to give it some depth. I was down, and gave here my right arm to do her thing. Two hours later, I was blessed with this...
Minutes after she was done
Obligatory douche pic showing off the tattoo. All that was missing was a Jagerbomb in one hand, and a chick that I'd could never score in the other.
Needless to say, I was blown away by her work. It was everything that I wanted and then some. I show it off to anybody who wants to look (hell, even if they don't). It's been two months since I got it, and it's looking great. I've already got the itch for a second one. I'm hoping to have it done by the end of Summer.
If you're near the NYC area, and looking to get a tattoo, please check out True Blue Tattoo, and definitely ask for Hillary.
Hillary is the shit. You tell her I said that.
After many different concepts, drafts, and a tragic accident, I got my first tattoo on 4/20 (dude...). I've been wanting to get one for a while now. I didn't want to get one of the stereotypical douchbag tattoos that are out there; barbed wire, tribal bands, Japanese kanji, Cap'n Crunch. I needed this to be different.
My first tattoo was going to be based on a character that was a part of a card game like Pokemon, or Magic the Gathering if you will. Sounds lame, but hold on. The game had a pimping/drug dealing theme. The character's name was "Super Ochenta," Spanish for Super Eighty. Don't know what that's supposed to mean, but I thought it was a cool piece of art...
Super Ochenta
I felt this guy was like a very cool homage to the Latin culture; a big ass cigar, the dope Panama hat, the fly beard, and it kinda-sorta-maybe-possibly looked like me. I was really feeling this.
I was going to get it done April of 2007 in exchange for designing a website for an amazing artist I met through my brother and his roommate. Monica Henk was going to be the one to bless my arm with it. Unfortunately, while riding her motorcycle to school, some heartless bastard struck her with his/her SUV, shooting her over 100 feet, and drove away. She died on impact, but was resuscitated at the scene by EMTs, and taken to the hospital. She died five days later. The killer is still out there.
Getting a tattoo after that didn't feel right, so I sat on it for months. Near the end of 2007, I was feeling that the time was right to get a tattoo done, but I didn't want to get Super Ochenta. I felt that Monica was the one that was supposed to do it, so I decided to get something else. This time around, it was going to be completely original. I wanted a portrait of myself, but with a twist. It's a portrait of me, but as a skull. For weeks, I was thinking about what elements of my personality I wanted in this piece. I decided to have a goatee, a cigar, and of course a 504 Style Kangol.
I can't draw to save my life, so I went to my artist friends to make a few designs. Nothing really caught my eye, until a young girl by the name of Alorah came up with a few dope designs for me...
The one on the top left corner was what I picked, so I was on my way to getting it done. The only pesky detail was finding an awesome tattoo artist. I was researching a few spots in the NY, but I couldn't find the right place. That's where my bro came in. When the new year arrived, my brother visited True Blue Tattoo in Queens, NY. That was one of the shops Monica worked at. He got to talking to a few of the artists, and hit it off real well with Hillary. She ended up doing a few of his tattoos. He had nothing but rave reviews about her, so I decided to get my arm done the same day he went to get a touch up on a tattoo of his.
After Scotty got his touch up done, it was my turn. I gave her the sketch, and she wanted to modify it so the skull looked more realistic. I gave her the green light to make any changes needed to make it as dope as possible. A half hour later, she finished her sketch. The skull did look more realistic, got rid of the cigar ("It looks like a joint"), and changed the look of the Kangol to give it some depth. I was down, and gave here my right arm to do her thing. Two hours later, I was blessed with this...
Minutes after she was done
Obligatory douche pic showing off the tattoo. All that was missing was a Jagerbomb in one hand, and a chick that I'd could never score in the other.
Needless to say, I was blown away by her work. It was everything that I wanted and then some. I show it off to anybody who wants to look (hell, even if they don't). It's been two months since I got it, and it's looking great. I've already got the itch for a second one. I'm hoping to have it done by the end of Summer.
If you're near the NYC area, and looking to get a tattoo, please check out True Blue Tattoo, and definitely ask for Hillary.
Hillary is the shit. You tell her I said that.
Friday, December 21, 2007
What happened to all the nice guys?
An open letter...
What happened to all the nice guys?
The answer is simple: you did.
See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.
At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and reinforced your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.
Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”
Well, once again, you did.
You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.
Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.
So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:
1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.
I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.
< /rant>
::exhale::
Okay. Feeling better now.
The answer is simple: you did.
See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.
At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and reinforced your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.
Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”
Well, once again, you did.
You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.
Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.
So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:
1.) Build a time machine.
2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.
I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.
< /rant>
::exhale::
Okay. Feeling better now.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
I'm going back to college, college, college...
(Say it like LL Cool J would)
So I'm finally doing it. It took a little over ten years, but I'm currently looking at colleges near where I live. My family is totally shocked by it, and to be honest with you, so am I. I never really liked school. I was a good student; honor roll, B+ average, etc. The only thing that kept me sane while I was there was joining clubs, sports, and after school programs. I was even Student Council president during my senior year in high school (I can picture people reading this having the confused, "Butt-Head" look on their face). It does seem strange that the only way I endured school was to get more involved in it. I can't figure it out either.
I don't regret much in my life, but not getting my degree has been something killing my conscience for quite some time now. It's not about pleasing my parents or what other people think of me (I could give two shits about that). I just want to prove to myself that I can do it.
Quick history lesson on "The Miseducation of E.J. Matos":
I attended Le Moyne College in Syracuse, NY from the Fall of '94 to the Winter of '95 majoring in Accounting. It was some of the best times in my life, because I met some of the coolest people anybody could know. I've reconnected with a few of them recently, and it's like we've never missed a step. The first thing I did when I arrived, was sign up in a bunch of clubs to keep me "sane." That really wore me thin (figuratively of course), and made me lose focus on why I left for college. I had a shitty overall GPA during the first semester of sophomore year, and I was always drained. My parents and myself were having a tough time coming up with the money to pay for school, so I had to make a decision. Either go back to Le Moyne, struggling to pay while not doing well in my classes, or come back home. On December or '95 I packed up my stuff and came back to Tarrytown.
I took a semester off to work with pops to raise money, and then I attended Westchester Community College on a part time basis for the next year and a half. All I did was show up to class, and go home. I didn't get involved in anything outside of class. I figured I would do the opposite of what I did in Le Moyne, and all would be well.
Chris Rock said it perfectly when he said "community college is a night club with books." Nobody took it seriously, and it sucked. The worst part of it was that it was easy; as a matter of fact too easy. I was never challenged my time there. I was close to a 3.9 GPA.
During my time at "Harvard on the Hudson," I got at job at Franklin Covey in White Plains. Commuting from the Bronx with pops and then going to school was leaving me with not that much time in between. I started as a part timer, and six months later, I was working full time with them and going to school two nights a week. Then an opportunity came up. An assistant manager's position opened in Short Hills, New Jersey and the job was mine for the taking. I was doing well with the company, and I knew I could shoot up the ladder quickly. I packed up, and left for Jersey. That was the last time I ever attended a classroom.
I lived in Jersey for a year and a half and went back to White Plains for another promotion within the company. Things are going well and just a few months later, I was promoted again and opened up a new location in Greenwich, Connecticut. As a manager, I also was an unofficial assistant district manager for the the Northeast district. I'd travel all over setting up new stores and train new managers...
Then my career hit a brick wall.
Business sucked, corporate was on our asses, and they offered no help. I was working close to 70 hours a week running the store, cold calling potential clients, visiting current clients to get them to spend more, and helping train new managers since turnover was at an all time high with the company. I was rarely home, and it put a strain in my relationship with my girlfriend at time because I was traveling so much. Then they dropped a bomb on us during a conference call. We were not going to get our yearly raises, and get this...they were cutting our salary! I had to bounce, and bounce I did.
I went back to work with pops in the Bronx, and things were going alright. His partners were retiring, so they sold us their share. I was finally a business owner. That's what I've always wanted to do in my life. Working for "the man" was never an option for me. I've been there now for almost six years, and overall it's pretty good.
While working for Franklin Covey, and at the stores, I got into promoting parties, clubs, and boat rides for something fun to do on the side. I got into DJing a few years ago to grab some extra cash, and some of that side 'nanner. One day we were proofing some artwork for a flier promoting one of our boat rides. I thought it was such a shitty job, and I hated the fact that we had to pay $150 bucks for it. We were short on time, so we had to go with it. One day, I picked up a copy of Photoshop, and decided to mess around with it. I put something together and presented it to the boys. They liked it, so we used it for our next flier. Now to say that I'm a bad artist, it would be compliment. I stink at drawing, and I can't build anything to save my life. What I am good with is working with colors. All of those years in the family business (even as a pre-teen) gave me ability to make good combinations, and decipher what made a good outfit. I use that same knowledge to make eye-catching fliers and websites for ourselves and other promoters.
What's great about this is that in an evening or two after work, I can get a flier done and make some nice cash on the side with barely any sweat. I can do it while watching the game or with the music on in the background. It helps me clear my mind of the everyday stresses of retail life in the hood.
I would love to go further with this, so I figured that going to school and get formal training would be the way to go. Luckily, there are a few good schools that specialize in this field around where I live so it seems like fate. It's a late to apply to a school for this semester, but trust me when I tell you that come Winter of '08, my face will be hitting the books once again.
If you want to see some of my work and might be interested in my services, you can check out my MySpace profile (cheap plug alert)
myspace.com/djkubarico
I'm going back to college, college, college...
I'm going back to college...hmm, I'm hoping so.
***Random funny pic***
So I'm finally doing it. It took a little over ten years, but I'm currently looking at colleges near where I live. My family is totally shocked by it, and to be honest with you, so am I. I never really liked school. I was a good student; honor roll, B+ average, etc. The only thing that kept me sane while I was there was joining clubs, sports, and after school programs. I was even Student Council president during my senior year in high school (I can picture people reading this having the confused, "Butt-Head" look on their face). It does seem strange that the only way I endured school was to get more involved in it. I can't figure it out either.
I don't regret much in my life, but not getting my degree has been something killing my conscience for quite some time now. It's not about pleasing my parents or what other people think of me (I could give two shits about that). I just want to prove to myself that I can do it.
Quick history lesson on "The Miseducation of E.J. Matos":
I attended Le Moyne College in Syracuse, NY from the Fall of '94 to the Winter of '95 majoring in Accounting. It was some of the best times in my life, because I met some of the coolest people anybody could know. I've reconnected with a few of them recently, and it's like we've never missed a step. The first thing I did when I arrived, was sign up in a bunch of clubs to keep me "sane." That really wore me thin (figuratively of course), and made me lose focus on why I left for college. I had a shitty overall GPA during the first semester of sophomore year, and I was always drained. My parents and myself were having a tough time coming up with the money to pay for school, so I had to make a decision. Either go back to Le Moyne, struggling to pay while not doing well in my classes, or come back home. On December or '95 I packed up my stuff and came back to Tarrytown.
I took a semester off to work with pops to raise money, and then I attended Westchester Community College on a part time basis for the next year and a half. All I did was show up to class, and go home. I didn't get involved in anything outside of class. I figured I would do the opposite of what I did in Le Moyne, and all would be well.
Chris Rock said it perfectly when he said "community college is a night club with books." Nobody took it seriously, and it sucked. The worst part of it was that it was easy; as a matter of fact too easy. I was never challenged my time there. I was close to a 3.9 GPA.
During my time at "Harvard on the Hudson," I got at job at Franklin Covey in White Plains. Commuting from the Bronx with pops and then going to school was leaving me with not that much time in between. I started as a part timer, and six months later, I was working full time with them and going to school two nights a week. Then an opportunity came up. An assistant manager's position opened in Short Hills, New Jersey and the job was mine for the taking. I was doing well with the company, and I knew I could shoot up the ladder quickly. I packed up, and left for Jersey. That was the last time I ever attended a classroom.
I lived in Jersey for a year and a half and went back to White Plains for another promotion within the company. Things are going well and just a few months later, I was promoted again and opened up a new location in Greenwich, Connecticut. As a manager, I also was an unofficial assistant district manager for the the Northeast district. I'd travel all over setting up new stores and train new managers...
Then my career hit a brick wall.
Business sucked, corporate was on our asses, and they offered no help. I was working close to 70 hours a week running the store, cold calling potential clients, visiting current clients to get them to spend more, and helping train new managers since turnover was at an all time high with the company. I was rarely home, and it put a strain in my relationship with my girlfriend at time because I was traveling so much. Then they dropped a bomb on us during a conference call. We were not going to get our yearly raises, and get this...they were cutting our salary! I had to bounce, and bounce I did.
I went back to work with pops in the Bronx, and things were going alright. His partners were retiring, so they sold us their share. I was finally a business owner. That's what I've always wanted to do in my life. Working for "the man" was never an option for me. I've been there now for almost six years, and overall it's pretty good.
While working for Franklin Covey, and at the stores, I got into promoting parties, clubs, and boat rides for something fun to do on the side. I got into DJing a few years ago to grab some extra cash, and some of that side 'nanner. One day we were proofing some artwork for a flier promoting one of our boat rides. I thought it was such a shitty job, and I hated the fact that we had to pay $150 bucks for it. We were short on time, so we had to go with it. One day, I picked up a copy of Photoshop, and decided to mess around with it. I put something together and presented it to the boys. They liked it, so we used it for our next flier. Now to say that I'm a bad artist, it would be compliment. I stink at drawing, and I can't build anything to save my life. What I am good with is working with colors. All of those years in the family business (even as a pre-teen) gave me ability to make good combinations, and decipher what made a good outfit. I use that same knowledge to make eye-catching fliers and websites for ourselves and other promoters.
What's great about this is that in an evening or two after work, I can get a flier done and make some nice cash on the side with barely any sweat. I can do it while watching the game or with the music on in the background. It helps me clear my mind of the everyday stresses of retail life in the hood.
I would love to go further with this, so I figured that going to school and get formal training would be the way to go. Luckily, there are a few good schools that specialize in this field around where I live so it seems like fate. It's a late to apply to a school for this semester, but trust me when I tell you that come Winter of '08, my face will be hitting the books once again.
If you want to see some of my work and might be interested in my services, you can check out my MySpace profile (cheap plug alert)
myspace.com/djkubarico
I'm going back to college, college, college...
I'm going back to college...hmm, I'm hoping so.
***Random funny pic***
Monday, July 16, 2007
What makes you think I know better?
That's an easy question...
I don't.
I just wanted to find a way to express my feelings about things that are going on today. It'll mostly be about music, sports, and what ever else is going through my mind. I'm not the political type, but I may drop something once in a while if I think it's important.
Just who the hell am I?
I'm E.J. from Sleepy Hollow, a New York City suburb.
I'm in the family business; I work in the Bronx with my pop and bro. We have two clothing stores. It's geared to older gentlemen (sexy, isn't it? **blech**).
I'm a party/club promoter and part time DJ for the extra cash and for fun.
I love hip hop, house music, neo-soul, and anything with heavy percussion like samba, afro-cuban and all that good stuff.
HUGE Yankee fan, but not one of those douche bags that always say, "Twenty-six championships! How many do you have?" I'm an intelligent baseball fan who knows that they're up shit's creek this season, and the only thing they have got going for them is the Wild Card (maybe.)
I love the Kansas City Chiefs. I've been a fan since the Christian Okoye days and always will be. I do hate Herman Edwards as the coach. I had to deal with his crap when he was with the Jets. Great motivational speaker, crappy game manager.
I listen to the Opie & Anthony Show and Ron & Fez Show on XM. Check them out. Don't bother if you're easily offended.
I also love the WWE and UFC. I like scripted and non-fictional violence.
That's it for now, because Monday Night Raw is about to start. I'll have something up very soon.
Next Blog:
I'm kinda feeling T-Pain and I should be beaten for it...
I don't.
I just wanted to find a way to express my feelings about things that are going on today. It'll mostly be about music, sports, and what ever else is going through my mind. I'm not the political type, but I may drop something once in a while if I think it's important.
Just who the hell am I?
I'm E.J. from Sleepy Hollow, a New York City suburb.
I'm in the family business; I work in the Bronx with my pop and bro. We have two clothing stores. It's geared to older gentlemen (sexy, isn't it? **blech**).
I'm a party/club promoter and part time DJ for the extra cash and for fun.
I love hip hop, house music, neo-soul, and anything with heavy percussion like samba, afro-cuban and all that good stuff.
HUGE Yankee fan, but not one of those douche bags that always say, "Twenty-six championships! How many do you have?" I'm an intelligent baseball fan who knows that they're up shit's creek this season, and the only thing they have got going for them is the Wild Card (maybe.)
I love the Kansas City Chiefs. I've been a fan since the Christian Okoye days and always will be. I do hate Herman Edwards as the coach. I had to deal with his crap when he was with the Jets. Great motivational speaker, crappy game manager.
I listen to the Opie & Anthony Show and Ron & Fez Show on XM. Check them out. Don't bother if you're easily offended.
I also love the WWE and UFC. I like scripted and non-fictional violence.
That's it for now, because Monday Night Raw is about to start. I'll have something up very soon.
Next Blog:
I'm kinda feeling T-Pain and I should be beaten for it...
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