Life, love, hip hop, humor AND instructions on how to cook a bangin'-ass meal... all in one place. I put the words here, make what you want of them.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

More Questions

Of course I would have a long list of questions, I haven't done one of these in a little while now...



  1. Why is it that the one day the weather would have cooperated with me, allowing me 30-40 uninterrupted minutes of non-rain, Time Warner Cable FINALLY sent someone to bury the cable in my back yard and I couldn't fucking do it?


  2. Speaking of cutting my grass...
    Why is it that I was worried about being the one whose yard would always need to be cut among the houses on either side of me, yet even in the unkempt raining-daily-for-a-week shagginess of it, my grass still appears to be in the best shape, yet it is still KILLING me?

  3. Why do I long for the days when I had a job that didn't make every move to make it look like it hated me?

  4. Is it wrong that whenever I ask anyone something and they preempt answering what I asked with what they chose to answer first, I make them repeat not only what they offered, but what the fuck I asked for as well?

  5. I am wondering what I can get as the new Best Blogger Alive?

  6. I wonder how long it will be before my supervisor mentions something to me about the fact that I did not grant her Facebook friend request and have no stated or otherwise intentions on ever doing so?

  7. Why do people answer with "I knew you were gonna ask me that" or something like "you always ask that," instead of ANSWERING THE FUCKING QUESTION?!!?

  8. Am I the only one who cringes REALLY hard immediately upon hearing a foreign accent when even the most rudimentary of instructions are to be given while I am at work, or am I just plain racist?

  9. Does it help me to not be racist if I explain that I cringe the same whenever I hear a group of black people talking about the current president?

  10. Am I wrong for immediately thinking about the "Fat Baby" episodes of Maury Povich when I saw the news splash with the 19-pound Indonesian baby last week?

  11. How is that, while Reality TV on the whole has worn thin on me, that I can still watch Tool Academy without issue?

  12. Is it wrong that I try to avoid going to Wal Mart/the grocery store during the first week of the month, and that fact has NOTHING to do with the fact that they don't run real sales during that week?

  13. Waitaminute...
    Is it wrong of the grocers that they DON'T run real specials during the first week of the month for the same reason I try to avoid the stores?

  14. Did anyone who doesn't live with me catch the common bond there?

  15. Who doesn't love getting free shit?

  16. Is it so wrong that sometimes I want to play Scrabble whilst taking a crap?



  17. Did anyone get their Obama reparations check yet, or were they all signed over to the banks before he took office?

  18. Why do I have this sneaking suspicion that ANYONE not named LeBron will be blamed when the Cavaliers do not win it all this year?

  19. Does anyone still write in cursive these days?

  20. I just created a new term -- "Alcoholic Savant," where many around me know me as a bit of an angry drunken asshole, but at moments I can full-on kick knowledge as well... How well will this go over?

  21. Why is asking these random questions to no one in particular so fun?

  22. Does anyone notice how bad standup comics get louder instead of getting funnier when on stage?

  23. Did anyone think of Steve Harvey when I asked that?

  24. I wonder who actually notices the links I add to my blogs just for the hell of it sometimes?

  25. Am I rambling now?

  26. What ever WILL I do on the next one?

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

"Best blogger alive!"

There, see how asinine that sounded?

I'm going to (kind of) talk about our good-ol' hip hop music again today...

I am led to remember when one was qualified as the "best rapper alive" because they ACTUALLY were damned good rappers, and not because they had a grasp on the collective ignorance of the buying/listening public enough to sell more copies than those who were actually better than -- but not properly marketed, comparatively speaking -- than them.

Vanilla Ice sold 11 MILLION copies of To The Extreme and Hammer sold over 10 MILLION copies of Please Hammer Don't Hurt 'Em -- both of which I owned copies of back when I was 10 -- and I don't recall either of them running around claiming to be the "best rapper alive," nor do I see either of them running around now these days behaving as if they still even fucking matter in music these days, though Rob Van Winkle showed how insignificant he was in Reality TV on VH1, who has made stars of literal nobodies who have LOST out on the shows of real famous people. In fact, Hammer and Mick Boogie put out a free mixtape back in June that I TRIED with all I could to avoid downloading at the time... To my credit, I only listened to it about 2-3 times, though it will not be stricken from the archives of my external hard drive for any reason short of another catastrophic failure of one.

Anyway, back to the task at hand in that strange manner that only I will fashion.

Somewhere back within the last 12 or so years, REALLY good rappers started dying, only to find themselves held as the so-called "greatest," in the midst of the void caused by each and their respective expiration. Around this time, given that we had lost Biggie; 2Pac; Big L and Big Pun due to senseless violence and poor personal health respectively. In an act of good old-fashioned corpsefucking, the deceased individuals' respective handlers (ALL except Big L's, that is) went out of their way to cash in their legacies at the expense of said legacies with posthumous collaborations with artists they'd have NEVER fucked with when alive. It stands to reason that their unreleased-while-alive material was that way for a reason (again, with the exception of Big L, who just couldn't get the shine he deserved while alive).
Anyway, the next sign of disrespect came when EVERYONE, no matter how shitty they were, began claiming "heir to the throne," or "king of [region formerly occupied by the recently deceased]" or the utterly disrespectful "best rapper alive."

Anyone with an ounce of common sense should know that sales does not make you "great," and certainly not the "best," so much as it does the "most successful," and that is not a knock on those who DO sell records in thr favor of those who just don't. I will readily admit that I am just not willing to give $5 bucks to some dude at a gas station or the Wal Mart parking lot to listen to a CDR of him and his homies bitch for 70 minutes about why they're not signed to a major and not getting the burn they feel they deserve. Shit, that 5 dollars is a 6-pack of Yuengling, which I am known and in fact guarantee myself to enjoy.
As a student of the game, I full-on understand the amount of bravado required, as a means of imparting your outwardly-displayed confidence on your listener, much in the same manner that we look up to James Bond to be able to fuck someone's woman before shooting or otherwise maiming them in some spectacular fashion. Much the same way we might expect a doctor to actually sure SOMEONE or a surgeon to perform their operations. Similar to how we expect public school teachers to teach our kids to be good little workers when they grow up. [damn, oops] Much the same way we expect Superman, Batman or Spiderman to save the day in their own little way. Much the same manner that we expect the police to keep crime off the streets and ensure the safety of the constituency. [okay, bad example with that one].

I say all that to say this...
When one goes and makes the claim to be the "best [item] alive," or apply bullshit modifiers such as "top 5 dead or alive," when in the blue hell is it anything short of acceptable to ask -- no, DEMAND -- that they fucking prove it?
One could think of it as if a basketball player -- let's use the pseudonym of "LeBron Raymone James -- went around claiming to be the "best player in the league" while not having actually WON anything at the level on which it matters while other players who can stake a claim for the same have. Wouldn't that be ODD?!!?
...
Oh shit, wait. [am I on a roll today or what?]


Without naming names here, we have all heard rappers from all corners of the country (and perhaps a couple from Canuckistan) who are NOT the "best alive" claim themselves to be JUST that. The realization that has failed each of them is that they speak this to a medium that lends itself ONLY to subjective judgment, judgment of the hands of a public that is comprised mostly of fucking sheep who would not know their asshole from a hole in the wall. That just goes to say that there is NOTHING that is definite, especially when one considers the discriminatory differences born in each of us -- whether we concede to them or not -- based upon race or geography, both are HUGE detractors in letting our guards down in this hip hop shit (seriously, I could PUNCH the next motherfucker STILL mentioning "taking your shirt off and spinning it around your head like a helicopter when it comes out that I am a hip hop addict from NC).

What's funny is the number of rappers that are universally panned as being fucking terrible, but make claims to "the best," based solely on their ability to use a dance that matches their song and the lengths that such a thing lends to 13 year-old girls hitting up mommy and daddy for their recession money on Tuesday mornings, or perhaps even "borrowing" the credit card and buying it on iTunes.


As the new self-proclaimed best blogger alive -- with my (to date, including this one) 137 posts in 10 months, 2 of which yielded zero additions to the count and several of were reposts from my MySpace blog -- I am proclaiming now that everything that we had previously learned about being the "best" at ANYTHING has been turned on its ear. Gone are the days where I would have to bow to the masters that were annoyances like being "entertaining," "interesting," "relevant," "different" or even "informative." Never mind that I refuse to have one concept, plan or modus operandi, I just post what comes out when my hands hit the keyboard, sometimes even posting something that it actually funny.
All I need now is to SAY that I am the best blogger alive, qualified by the most unspecific and very dynamic set of criteria, naturally able to be changed to suit my right-ness no matter the argument you might try to present to the contrary. If nothing else, the precedent for my claims is set in the hip hop artists we have all listened to at some point or another making the claims to the tops of their profession.

Ladies and gentlemen, please throw out the rose petals in my path to my coronation as the new Best Blogger Alive.
Kiss the rings, bitch.

Monday, September 28, 2009

dotdotdot

*****Really?!!?*****
This is really what it has come to?



What ya'll DON'T realize is that at the gas station right up the block, there was a guy in a robe with a sandwich board sign that said "suck some dick for gas," it was the weirdest thing.





*****For the sake of normalcy...*****
Gimme my coffee bitch!!!

And yes, I make it right here at the house. See, I am newly poor and cannot afford Starbucks, or even McDonald's coffee, so I make to the Wal Marts and get the Maxwell House $6.00 sale price, I try to grab one every time it is on sale:

Normally, I go with the Columbian, but somehow these fuckers decided to try to get cute and NOT put that one on sale, right next to EVERY other flavor, all of which were. I selected South Pacific Blend, so as to still have a medium dark roast, without having to get the bitterish French blend.


No, I do not drink my coffee black, it must be whitened about the complexion of a light skinnded person, and properly flavored. The flavor of this week is International Delight's "White Chocolate Raspberry," which I will add is quite tasty.

Another item I wait on sales to grab up.

In all, I get my daily cup of coffee and it costs me a TINY fraction of what it would cost me to stop in Starbucks or anywhere else with even passably decent coffee.




*****Drug my ass this morning...*****
Anyone who knows me knows that I am best about my punctuality. This morning, though? I couldn't be bothered to want to leave the house in any real time, and didn't get out until almost quarter of 8, about 20 minutes AFTER I normally leave, surely I would be about 15 minutes late and frankly after the week I've had at work, I didn't particularly care.
Somehow, traffic was right and I moved like a madman on the highway and managed to only be 6 minutes late. To top it off, I was somehow granted rockstar parking:



I know it happened because 3rd shift leaves as 1st comes in, but I almost NEVER get that spot, the closest one to the entrance not marked for the handicapable. Too bad the rest of my day was no less shitty and soul-draining that most others...
I hope.




*****Back to my past...*****
Sitting around the house last week while The Katie was in class, I actually turned on the PS2 (yes, I still have a 2, because I NEED backwards compatibility)... I know I started in on this a year late, but I started LEGO Batman and I am convinced that this is among the most enter-fucking-taining games I have played in quite a while.
The layout is fun and "cute," if one might say so (no brokeback), what with boards being constructed of LEGO pieces and quirky little things about it lending themselves to not be taken too terribly seriously. Of course, the elements of the game are that you destroy things, beat people up and traverse the boards, all while doing things in a specific order, like a puzzle or whatnot, but done so in a manner that also tells a story, so things are to be done in order. This goes a VERY long way in having held my attention to eek some marathon sessions of 3, 2 and 5 hours each for each sitting now. I am about halfway finished with the "story" of the game, but only about a 3rd of the way done with "completing" the game, as in there are extras and shit that can be done in route to actually finishing up.
Since I am now broke most of the time in the name of not being homeless and actually eating, perhaps I will be back tethered to my video games as a means of keeping my ass in the house, like back in the days.




*****3 weeks in...*****
Football season has started, and now 3 weeks have gone by and we're at the end of September now.
That means that I only have 4 weeks remaining until NBA season starts, and I could not be ONE bit happier. Again, a previous promise from the end of the season dictates that I not go in on it yet, so I will sit on this one.




*****I guess anyone reading can see...*****
That I enjoy cooking.
There was the tuna pasta that I made last weekend based upon what I had seen on MSN Friday before last. Today, I saw another splash that caught my attention enough to at least get me back on the page.
This time, I will share the whole thing, the recipes, some of many you will soon be seeing in these pages, are coming from Delish.com and wherever they should happen to lead me.
This will be fun.




****Okay, I spent a week*****
And this is not going much further, I will call this one a wrap for now. Otherwise I am just babbling.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

In the kitchen with Phlip -- Jambalaya (again-like)

I know I have done this before, but I can blog it again because
  1. This is MY blog, not yours.
    and
  2. I am switching it up a little bit this time.
Never mind the fact that this is something I could do a million times and never do it exactly the same each time. I decided that I would use the standard of rice this time around instead of the penne pasta, as I did last time. This IS not because I had rice and not pasta, but more because I felt like using it this time.
Other variations will be noted as they come about in the presentation.

Let us start by naming the tool kit to be used this time around...

(NEW SHIT!!!)

1 cup, soy beans (happened to have them in the fridge, it was either use or dispose of)


The other half of the bunch of parsley from last week's pasta.


1 pound shrimp, you choose your size, but I am not willing to pull the tails off of more than 41-60


1 pound, sausage. You can use pork sausage, which leaves you open to andouille or however the fuck you spell that, but I don't eat pig, so it is turkey Italian.


1 pound boneless/skinless chicken titty (I am not feeding as many people this time, so I don't need 2.5 as before)


1 cup (uncooked) rice... More on this in a minute.


Fajita mix... Includes cut/cleaned white onion, red and green peppers


Celery


1 can, chicken broth



1 can, sliced carrots.


1 can, corn... I chose "Mexican Style," but do this to your own taste.


One LARGE can, diced tomatoes, again choose to your own preference.


Now, let us make with the prep, shall we?
Go ahead and dice up the celery by slicing the white part at the end off where the bunch is connected, shitcan that. Then split what remains down the middle, then cut it into little pieces.:


You will need about half of the above-pictured celery for what you're doing here today, so be ready to make something else with it within 5-ish days.

And...

Chop up the parsley (or cilantro, whichever you chose) up just short of finely:



Take them and put them together in a container with the soy beans, shake them up to mix them thoroughly and put them in the fridge for now, it'll be at least an hour before you need them.

Now, take the cleaned chicken titties and dice them up:


[note: this task is easier if you started with tenderloins]

Have a quart-sized bag on hand, shake this up in seasonings of your choice and make sure you've planned ahead at LEAST 30 minutes for that to hang out in the fridge:




PAUSE, MOTHERFUCKERS!!!

It has disturbingly come to my attention the number of people who do not know how to PROPERLY prepare rice.
No, getting a one-gallon pot and putting a few scoops of rice in it and boiling until it is soft, then draining in a colander then serving is not the way. Properly prepared rice does not need to be drained.

I am feeling generous, so I will lay it out for you here...
Before prep, plan ahead.

For EVERY one of these:



Have 2 of these:


Stove set to this:


Season/salt the water and leave it til it does this violently:


Now set the stove here:


And place one of these SECURELY on the pot:


Wait approximately FIFTEEN MINUTES and set the stove here:

DO NOT PEEK AT IT!!!

Remove the pot from the heat, leave it alone for 5 more minutes:

Now you may look at it...

See? Was that so hard:


Don't believe me? I will break it up and show you:


Works every fucking time, trust me...


BACK TO BUSINESS...


Prepare the rice as I described in the above bonus footage, go ahead and put it in the large pot that catches everything when done.

Go ahead and get the fajita mix and line your pan with a slightly-more-than thin coating of oil and set the stove temp to about 7.5-8ish...
Lifehacker suggests that you employ a "one layer rule" when cooking, which basically means that you do not pile a fuckton of shit in the pan when you're cooking it, unless of course those things are SUPPOSED to be like that. Seen:




No less than about 5 minutes later:

No need to overdo it this time, since I will be cooking this in with MORE stuff shortly.

Now go ahead and dump THAT in that enormous pot back there on the stove (or counter, dependent on your preference)

Now, you go ahead and cut the casings off of those sausages and begin to brown them like you would ground beef:


Be careful to shy to the SHORT side of overcooking, erring toward undercooking if necessary... NO real worry, you have some more heating to do before this is all over.

Oh, hello... How are you doing?


Now, at least 30 minutes (more if you planned ahead like I told you to) have passed and you can go ahead and toss the chicken into the pan, heat on 6.5-7ish:


Be again careful not to overcook, rubbery is not a good thing for chicken. Again, you're not DONE with heat anyway, so erring on the side of undercooked will be okay for this application...

At this time, you can go ahead and drain the liquid off of the carrots and corn and add them to the put; drain NOTHING off of the tomatoes and add them to the pot and add the whole of the chicken broth in. Add in the other veggies (cilantro/parsley, celery, soy beans, etc...) as well at this time...
If you are like me, you missed the opportunity to take a picture of this because the TV is visible from the stove and not the counter, where the camera is, and you were trying to watch football too... Anyway, go ahead and put the heat on about 5.5-6ish and start to pulling the tails off of the shrimp. Cooked or not, make this the last thing you do, as shrimp cooks LIGHTNING fast and overcooking shrimp makes for rubbery shrimp, which is not a good look... Last thing in the pot should be shrimp.

You're almost done cooking now...

Add the shrimp, 3 heaping spoons of the cayenne I showed above (or one regular, or none at all if you're a pussy), along with any OTHER seasonings of your choosing, as well as 1 large spoonful of the minced garlic I never bothered telling you that you needed before now. Be prepared.


I know it doesn't APPEAR to be the prettiest of things, but soups and casseroles NEVER are as great looking as they taste.

At this point, it is quite liquidy, you should turn the heat up to about 7.5-8ish until it boils -- stay your ass in the kitchen -- then down to 5, stirring regularly for about 10 minutes or so, then down to 2 and NOW you can go have a seat and watch football or play LEGO Batman, perhaps even kiss your girlfriend...

Turn the heat off now, go away for about 20-30ish minutes, come back and put in a bowl:


And enjoy with a nice cold beer (unless your name is Tony Grands) and some football games (unless you're a 49ers fan and already hated Brett Favre's fucking guts)...


Summation...

I am sitting here watching the Steelers beat up on the Bengals, and there is the remains of that empty bowl waiting on me to get up and toss it... I am THOROUGHLY pleased with what I have come up with this time around. In fact, the smell wafting from the bowl has me thinking of going back for seconds.
I would be inclined to say that this is to become a part of the rotation, but it has been for me for several years now, and the issue has always remained that as a "freestyle" dish, it will never be the same twice. I swear, if I could make this shit so I could do PRECISELY this as I made it this time every time, I would be in Nirvana. I was on POINT with the use of the cayenne, I can tell because my nose was running.

Total prep time: fuuuuuck... Set aside a whole day, no less than 2.5 hours for this one.

There IS a full gallery made for this, interested parties can find it here...


----------------
Now playing: Foreign Exchange - 07 Valediction
via FoxyTunes
I am WAAAAY beyond pleased with my outcome this time around.
Take care of yourselves until the next.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Observations from a proud straight male

Is "zesty" the new "hardcore"?

First thing's first, it should be apparent to anyone reading this who may have missed the word used before, what "zesty" means. Word to Simon Stone...


I am inclined to recall back in the best years of hip hop, like before it was on it's deathbed as it has been for the past several years now that men would do manly things. Sparring verbally and sometimes physical altercation would take place as a result. Joe Budden getting his face chipped notwithstanding, it seems that no one is terribly interested in these things these days.
I couldn't breakdance for shit and while we weren't "poor," we couldn't afford for me to have an enormous Radio Raheem boombox with "20 D batteries," so I was left to witness and come to love what I loved about hip hop, as a musical genre and the spillover to hip hop as a lifestyle as well, which I gladly embraced, being a product of my generation/environment. Being a young brown child, I looked like these rappers, since all black people look alike. My preferred style of dress somewhat fell after theirs, word to the 8 pairs of Shelltoe Adidas I own (and the 4 I painfully jettisoned when moving 5 weeks ago). Like it or not, I was hip hop, and right now I will claim to be what hip hop was.

Things being as they are, we've seen things change. Sadly, though, we've not exactly seen the change for the better. Rappers went from the Lee Jeans and shelltoes to baggier and baggier (and sometimes colorful) jeans from the likes of Karl Kani and Cross Colours. Looking back now, it seemed that the more unabashedly "street" hip hop became, with rappers more and more openly embracing gun violence and crack sales in the mid-90s, the looser our clothings became. The late 90s saw a turn back to normalcy, what with the embrace of the "mafioso" rap, rappers started donning suits and ties in their videos and appearances, and clothes followed suit. Maybe people weren't going to slap on a suit and tie to go catch the bus and work at KMart, but at least they began buying jeans that were not 4 sizes too big to show off their drawz, which matched their fitted. Take it for what it is worth, but this might have been my favorite time in this whole progression. Personally, I was in Girbaud Brand X, Levi's Silvertabs and any number of Enyce cargo jeans or velours at the time. Working in the store that sold most of these wares made for easy access, given a generous employee discount.
I seriously think that, as far as fashion goes, I fell into that space and STAYED there while everyone else followed hip hop into a deep deep rabbit hole, and things have only gotten worse.

What I am talking about, here is skinny jeans...
You know you have seen them, some fucking hipster walking through your local shopping mall wearing a pair of size 30 low-rise KNOWING he needs to be in a 34 or better. It is so much to the point where people are even putting the shit in their album covers:



If you are so lucky as to have not been cursed with having to have heard that hunk of shit, please do yourself the continued service of NOT going to Google to find out more about them. You'll thank me for it.
The colors are back, but where we dealt in colors like dark greens and reds, maybe a non-standard blue with Cross Colors, these fruits are out in lime greens, bright oranges and reds and so forth, with all kinds of shit stitched on the pockets! I was in Urban Outfitters with the lady not too long ago (their toys and trinkets section is the SHIT!) and wandered into the mens' section just out of curiosity and ALL they sold were skinny jeans and Vans shoes. Needless to say, the guy working the section was extra lispy, as were about half of the people shopping up there. Call me a homophobe, call me judgmental, call me an asshole, I will be ALL of those right now, but I was extra uncomfortable and got my ass back downstairs to my woman with the quickness.

Drawn to my attention this week is how young boys -- think high school age to maybe sophomore in college -- are apparently going out in public DRESSED alike!!!
I had not specifically noticed it until mentioned in an IM conversation the other night. Out in public, dressed like another individual, doubly sad in that you're dressed like another individual of the same sex. This is suspect behavior when taken in ANY context other than...
  1. You're in a R&B group
  2. Your group is performing or otherwise tending to some business of the band
  3. Your "outfit" is actually a "uniform" and you're actively on your way to complete said task requiring that you be dressed in uniform.
  4. Sporting attire, again en route or actively participating in a team event.
No exceptions.
ESPECIALLY no exceptions made for you to be in the mall (or on the bus stop waiting on the public school bus, as witnessed any given morning this week) wearing matching skinny jeans and extra tight shirts to show off your nipples.

Research for this assignment found me on a site that actually ridicules people who actually put themselves (and with them, anyone who is unfortunate to have to witness) through this shit. Enjoy with me and have a laugh at the expense of others here.
We have T.I., who we would be INCLINED to think is a "thug" of sorts, on songs talking about "swinging his Louis rag (bandanna) in the air" and the bag that said "rag" matches.
We have Shawty Lo, with Gucci Mane (who, by the way, looks like he stinks) and Soulja Boy (whose zestiness has been documented in the pages of this blog) going on about THEIR "Gucci Bandanna."
We have an unreal amount of these filthy shines going on and on and fucking on about what accessories they have on that match whatever OTHER accessories they're wearing at current. Weren't the chicks in that movie "Clueless" doing the same thing? [see what I just did there?]

I find myself in the unenviable position where I am just not fucking GOING to agree with any opinion differing my own on this topic. I can't possibly imagine why MALES would want to subscribe to fashion sensibilities reserved for those who possess vaginas.
Even more strange is the blind eye that has been turned to it. I will go without giving any MORE specific attention to someone who has been starring in a no-longer-funny internet meme for something that happened almost 2 weeks ago now. Just know that he and his merry brand of zesty muppets he is often seen with are guilty too.

I am thinking myself in circles, here...
It just dawned on me that this is the second renaissance of this very kind of behavior. The last time was in the 80s with Prince and his folks, which was right in line with when Michael Jackson decided that being a black man was no longer good enough and that he would rather be a white woman [you damn right I don't pull punches].
This was the time when men in the public wore colorful sweaters with leather fronts and had jheri curls so luxurious that they made women jealous. Stony Jackson status. I could never be any more glad that I was born in 1979, so I could successfully avoid the entire era where that kind of shit -- which was immediately followed by S-Curls and wave "kits" -- was cool.
Alls I know is that I am afraid to bring a child of any gender into this shit. Perhaps I should just lay low for a few years and see how this whole thing pans out.

Do you know what tomorrow is?

According to Smithsonian Magazine, it is National Museum Day, and HUNDREDS of museums nationwide are participating in it by allowing free entrance with the download of the ticket to do so, which allows you and one guest.

How about we all make a point of trying to make it out to something educational for a change, instead of sitting around bitching about whatever we were bitching about on the internets and forwarding around the no-longer-funny "I'mma let you finish" pictures of Kenya West?

I know I printed my ticket, you should do the same.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Classic Japanese Automotive Pr0ns -- Datsun 510

Now, I will have to qualify this one as "pr0nographic to me, at least" when I consider that most of both of my readers will not give a damn about, or might even turn their noses up at the Datsun Bluebird 510, but I like what I like.
Fact, here is that if I could find a 510 in good non-rusted shape with decent enough body panels and running well enough to last a couple or few months before changing out an engine in it, I would IMMEDIATELY sell my 240SX and change projects. The car is boxy, yes. Changes in tastes have served that for some reason, I actually LIKE that about it. It is so "uncool," when one considers sense of the word "cool," that it is actually cool in how it can't try to be.

Manufactured from 1968 to 1973 and a few rumored remakes, they were blessed (HA!) with engines ranging from 77 (L13) to 105 (L18) horses, which was more than serviceable in late-60s/early-70s terms, but would SURELY need replacement/enhancement in 2009 terms. As things go with Nissan, that is not a terribly insurmountable task to be conquered.

Anyway, as my "automotive pr0ns" series goes, I now owe you some images, no?



Ooh look, Honda S2000 engine!

































































... at the end of it all, I couldn't be wholly specific as to WHY I want one, other than the simple fact that I fucking do. The same, largely, can be said for my 240SX. I will chalk this one up to Datsun (Nissan) having manufactured the little shoebox with magic, or perhaps some voodoo.
This is one of the few cars in existence where I would accept it however it came, coupe, sedan or wagon.

I know I hadn't done one of these in a few weeks, but don't let that make you think that I had one burst of a month, then got lazy. I just been busier than a one-armed hooker and I am beginning to run out of ideas for the series. Frankfurt Motor Show was last/this week, so I will be seeing some new shit coming down the line which will SURELY make for some Automotive Pr0ns moments in the near future.

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