I believe it was the great philosopher Robert “R” Kelly who in 1990 so eloquently stated, in a public announcement no less:

“Vibe. Vibe. Viiii-iiiibe.”

I shed a tear for the brilliance of his statement. You won’t find any better illustration of genius than the composition of those three exclamatory statements, people. That is thought at work.

Such was the case last night at the weekly Wednesday get up a get get get down Stock 13 travelling band and show. Okay, so its not really travelling as its quite stationarily located at everybody’s favorite historic cave of illuminestasticnesence (okay, so if you’re making up words, does it matter if you spell them correctly?), Bohemian Caverns.

2001 Eleventh Street, NW at the corner of 11th and U Streets, NW.

Woosah.

You can put all the pieces together but you cannot fabricate a vibe. And the vibe comes from the people. If the people collectively aren’t really in a good mood, you’re night just might be shot to shit. However, if you bring together the right collection of people…

…you just might get an engagement.

In a cave.

I see you looking at the screen like…”huh? Somebody proposed last night at Bohemian Caverns? For real? In the cave???”

Scrunched up face, huh?

You may now call me Mr. Me Too.

That’s the kind of excitement we bring to the table. It’s spiked red Kool-Aid.

I guess I got my swagger back…

So let’s get into what I learned last night, which is really less about education and more about just finding a way to tell you about the evening. Some of you were there last night as I forced everybody to repeat after me a phrase that will be coming to screen-printed t-shirts in a small town near you: Google Panama Jackson.

It don’t get no righter.

1O THINGS I LEARNED LAST NIGHT WHILE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHY MORE FOLKS FROM DOWN SOUTH AIN’T AT THIS BAD BOY…TAKE THAT TAKE THAT

1. “It’s not how many people you shoot, it’s who you shoot.” ~ Quick (Eddie Murphy) in Harlem Nights

The house was not packed last night…well let me rephrase. Nearly everybody had a place to sit for a large part of the evening, but the collection of people that was there was a good one. It seemed like most people were actually enjoying themselves. And if they weren’t???

I smiled and forced everybody to clap as much as possible. I like clapping. Not to be confused with “the clap” which much like cancer, is just bad for your health. You know, I JUST realized that I referred to myself as a Carebear last night.

Oy, vey.

I couldn’t do that if the people in there weren’t in good spirits. And speaking of good spirits…

2. Inebriation is not a job, it’s an adventure.

This is more of a personal note, but I honestly cannot remember how many Rum & Coke’s I had last night. It’s somewhere in the neighborhood (I think) of 7-10. Throw in two shots of tequila and vodka and presto changeo…

…inebriated at work the next morning. Not a hangover…just still slightly “under the weather.”

Meet me at Stock13…it’s going down. And I will drink with you in a heartbeat. I’m European like that.

I like bartenders and cocktail waitresses.

Cocktail is a funny word.

3. If you build it, they will come.

So this cat named Mike Andrews was performing last night. East New York, BK Stand up. Real cool cat. But when I tell you he brought out his entire phonebook…well it seemed like it anyway. And they were right up in front too. I like supportive friends and family, I really do. He got up and did two pieces. And you know what, he was quite hype about it and once again, I like hypeness because it works its way into the crowd and if we’re all hype then we can all have a good time. So good job Mike for bringing it.

And in case you don’t know, Mike’s tired of a lot of that same old crap. Though I have to disagre with him on one point, and this could be the southerner in me, but umm…

…I’m STILL not tired of making my shoulder lean (shoulder lean shoulder lean).

Get it right (two step and make your shoulder lean).

4. “…but then again, you’re not from Idlewild…”

Sony/BMG had a rep in the house last night so we had a mini-listening party for the Idlewild soundtrack. I’m an Outkast fan and as far as I’m concerned they’re the best rap group ever. And umm…fuck Wu-Tang (big ups to The Champ). As apart of the promotion, the rep had me give out some free CD’s by making folks in the crowd answer some questions.

Let me introduce you all to Jasmine (sp?). I like Jasmine, she’s fun. So much energy I tell you and she loves her some Outkast…just couldn’t tell me where they were from to save her life.

The first question: “We all know that Outkast is from Atlanta…but where specifically in Atlanta…”

Jasmine: *standing up and letting me know that she knows* Decatur!!!!!!

Panama: WRONG!

Jasmine: *shooting me daggers*

Some other chick in the back (forgive me for forgetting her name): East Point!!!!

Panama: East Point and what?? You cant’ say East Point without the rest…

Other Chick: COLLEGE PARK!!

Panama: Sold!!

Boy, that Jasmine gave me the look to end all looks. But I know she’s a ‘Kast fan because she sho’nuff threw in West Savannah (where Big Boi is originally from) which means she still listens to Aquemini.

And any Outkast fan is a friend of mine.

Speaking of Outkast…which I’ve done a lot just now, do you know how many folks got this next question I asked wrong? A lot.

The question: What was Outkast’s first hit? Answer: Player’s Ball.

Everybody thought it was Southernplayalisticcadillacmusick. Crazy.

5. Holla at ya hustler.

Komplex came through again and you know, he puts on one helluva a performance. You can tell he does this for a living (plus he carries a credit card machine with him to make sure you don’t have a reason to not buy something). I heard lots of “okays” and “that’s right” while he was doing his pieces. Felt like I was in church for a second. Good thing nobody got to yelling Amen because that would have been a violation of church and state.

And no, I have no clue why I just wrote that or how it could even possibly fit into anything. All I’m saying is Komplex is one hell of an artist.

And oh yeah, holla at ya hustler. 6. Nervousness has no place in the Cave…

…especially when you perform there everyweek. I’m not calling out any names (Madeline), I’m just saying. The kid Joe Young (the Jyant) and Madeline kicked things off for us again and the band gave them a nice melody to work with. I don’t know why you were worried, ma’am, you did great. I like these two, they alwyas come through and they’re supportive. When you’re trying to build something, these are the kinds of folks you need around. Thanks.

And mad shout outs (word life) to the band Cut The Check. Sometimes I feel like they don’t get enough credit for the soundscape they provide, but these dudes are some bad mamajammas.

7. Smuv

Admittedly, I wasn’t 100 percent sure what kind of show these brotha’s were going to bring. I talked to them ahead of time and they are some down to earth cool cats. And because I’m a closet racial profiler, when I see some black men wearing the DC/MD area originals, I tend to think of rappers and the like. Plus, you know every black man is a rapper at heart. For real. So when they got up on stage I was sitting in the crowd talking to somebody and then WHAM!!!

Butterfly by Michael Jackson.

I so didn’t see that coming. And they did a good job, I’m just saying, they had that we finna bust some rhymes look and they started singing. I can’t remember what the second song was, at that point I was running around all over the place, but, yeah, SMUV….you betta know dat.

8. Let’s talk comedians if you don’t mind.

We had three comedians come through, Sean Joxe, Antoine Blackman, and Lawrence Owens. One of my boys, The Great, was in attendance as he’s just moved up to DC for a while and this dude was in tears from laughing so hard.

Word to the wise ladies…if you start dating a man, and he has a tattoo on the small of his back, he’s gay.

According to Antoine Blackmon, even it’s a tech9 and some pitbulls…he’s gay.

Something else I wasn’t aware of, courtesy of Lawrence Owens: the difference between breasts and titties. He has a 4 part distinction. If you’re up on the comedy scene and you can see these dudes, I highly recommend it…they had me dying laughing. Trust me…

9. DJ Scientific knows how to read his crowds very well.

You know how some DJ’s just plain suck? Like, they play shit they like in the middle of a set that’s going so-so. For instance, say you’re at a party with a bunch of ninja’s from the ‘hood who want to hear T.I. all night. So the DJ is playing what they want to hear then decides aww fuck it, I really want to hear some George Michael right now…and yes, I’ve been to a party where the DJ has done some shit like that.

Scientific on the other hand kept the party moving with songs that made everybody say “OH SHIT…THATS MY SHIT” nearly every time he went to a new song. And I like to dance, so I was up a lot…a lot a lot.

If you’re hot, you should come dance with me. Open invite…

Shouts to DJ Scientific.

10. Rain can keep people away…

…and it sure did last night, but the folks that did come through…had a damn good time because I know I did and I’m whats important. Me me me. Okay, that’s not really true…but thanks to everybody who came out and didn’t ask me to buy them any drinks…

…my wallet’s on strike right now anyway.

Stock 13 at Bohemian Caverns…it’s going down. Every Wednesday…you betta know dat.

And oh yeah, this is the shirt I wore last night. I’m going to do some free publicity for this company because I like the stuff they have on their site. Plus I wear shirts similar to what they sell all the time.

ATL Roots

Well it’s a shirt that has this on it…and it’s true I do…One Love!!!

[***EDIT: And wouldn't you know it, I've ALREADY gotten an email from somebody saying...you'll buy me a drink if I come thru right??? I swear...that's going up there on the list of things you can't even come close to putting in the same sentence, free and drinks. I love people. Makes mouths happy! ***]

I don’t know if you noticed or not, but I’ve been on quite a roll lately. I’ve a post up nearly everyday since Thursday. For me, that’s somewhat miraculous.

What, I look like The Afterparty Hostess or something??

Methinks not.

Anyway, for all of my folks in Washington, DC…come thru tonight to Bohemian Caverns for that live action super hyphy crunk what yo’ mama gave ya get down (get down) so good it will make you wanna slap yo’ mama entertainment.

Plus, you got Mr. Oh So Sexxy himself (that’d be me) handling the hosting duties guaranteeing we keep it moving (yeah yeah to the K.I.M.).

In fact, any of you boho’s that comes thru and comes to holler at me and tells me that you came because you saw me doing all this talking up shit on this site…well I’ll give you a handshake because drinks are expensive.

No for real though, I actually wonder if anybody has come because of me advertising it on here…that’s not exactly a question. I don’t know if I can take rejection.

Of course, if one person rolls through and says, “hey Panama…you don’t know me but I read your site…what’s up with a drink or something for coming and spending money and shit to get in here??”

I might be inclined to pony up on that one.

Panama loves the people.

About as much as Trick Daddy loves the kids.

Straight from the promoter’s mouth…here’s what’s going down tonight:

So for tonight, Sony/BMG is gonna be in the house doing a listening party and giving away promotional material from 6 to 7:30pm for that new IdleWild joint that Outkast just finished. And as usual, I got three headliners for tonight…I got a group outta Baltimore who is supposed to be dope, but I can’t say for myself because the guys in the band told me about these dudes. But I’ve never heard them myself so that part of the show is gonna be the mystery meat. But for the comedians, we got Joxe and Lawrence Owens to cap off the night. Long-time comedy promoter Tracey Wiggs is bringing those comedians in, so I don’t really know these guys either. But he told me they’re funny and will be perfect for the spot. I hope so, cuz one thing I have learned…y’all are a tough crowd. But that’s good because if somebody can entertain in the Cave, they can entertain anybody anywhere. It’s all gonna build up to something real soon…but until then…

Also we got this cat named Mike Andrews coming through…making sure you get a shout out kid. He’s a spoken word artist/poet that loves hiphop.

Speaking of Idlewild…have you seen it yet? I’m not recommending it one way or another. I’ve actually been planning on doing a movie review of it. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow or later today…who knows.

Nobody knows that’s who knows.

BOHEMIAN CAVERNS
2001 ELEVENTH ST NW
CORNER OF 11TH AND U ST NW
WASHINGTON, DC 20001
202-299-0801
COMEDY & BAND 6PM-10PM IN THE CAVE
DJ SCIENTIFIC FROM 10-2AM
ACROSS FROM U ST/CARDOZO ON GREEN LINE

And because I get like NO shoutouts unless I do them myself (and you know how much I hate talking about myself)…Panama Jackson on the hosting duties…

…and I’ll be wearing some Mardi Gras beads.

What would you do for some Mardi Gras beads (and no I ain’t giving up your beads!!)?

Viva la New Orleans!

For those folks who are wondering what it is we do at this here Stock 13 Band and Show at the historic Bohemian Caverns (word to Ramsey Lewis), trudge on over to the Stock 13 Report, a blog I started so that I can chronicle some of the goings ons in the Cave. Reading is fundamental.

See you tonight, if you’re in DC (maybe) and holla at your boy!

Boy stop!

It is a sad day here at Jackson G. Tickle Headquarters. It is a day unlike any other day which means its a day unlike yesterday, which would fall squarely in the realm of any other day.

It is a day where change must occur. Some people say change is good. But for me, change is sad. Change tends to require you to thrive on the memories. I don’t like living on the memories, but alas, there is nothing else that can be done.

You see, today, I’m different.

The core of my being is different than it was yesterday. It is still a core full of sexx appeal. For I am as sexxy today as I was yesterday, if not more. But I am still different today for I have seen something that has caused my world to shift.

My world now exists as if Pluto is no longer a planet.

Oh…right.

Today, I’d like to sadly announce the passing of a JGT great. A legend amongst legends. Now this is not a passing as if into the afterlife. No, she does not live in my lap. This is a passing of the torch. It is the moment where one person no longer holds the crown that they once held. It is with great humility that I must bid adieu to Christina Milian as the woman I’d give my spleen and for whom I’d drink her bathwater…for there is a new bather in town.

I must now resort to drinking somebody else’s bathwater.

But first, for the good times…here are some pictures of Christina Milian that made me smile…*sniffle*:

(Whatever YOU want Christina…whatever YOU want I got it!)

(Here’s looking at you Christina…at you!!!)

(So classy…this one’s for the good times, Christina!)

(This is how I see you in my dreams…nearly twice a week…so sad…)

Christina, myself and Whitney Houston (and Dolly Parton) will always love you. It’s not you, it’s me.

Actually it’s her…let me officially introduce you to the newest fanatical crush I’ve surrended to in my life. She’s fine like no other and much like Christina, her real talent aside from being hot has yet to be shown. But she snagged her a white man that can sing so that must count for something right (Robin Thicke, anyone)?

Paula Patton, you are my new Queen. Christina is fine, but you wore the HELL out of that dress in the Idlewild movie, which despite being strange was enjoyable and aesthetically pleasing.

But YOU, girl YOU, are the most aesthetically pleasing thing I’ve seen in quite sometime. So what you got voted out in Round 1 of our October Madness Tournament…I’ll bet it won’t happen again.

Paula, you can live in my lap (or die) any time you want!

Ten points and a pack of Cherry Kool-aid for anybody who can tell me which ’90’s movie I just referenced.

So what you’re IMDB page is more blank than a sterile 98 year old…you are beautiful and we all know it.

Thank you for living and being fine. You make me smile like Shanice.

(That’s right…look right into my soul…into my love for you!)

(You even look fine in the early ’90s video poses!!! Who else can really pull that off?? Surely not Mary J.)

(Girl, you’re even fine at work…I work with women, they all look like they’re working. You?? You like like you’re fine!)

(Just stand there and look like you do…I’ll wait…take them pictures girl…take ‘em)

(This is how I came to know and love you…thank you Outkast for making my life better…loved the soundtrack, babe…totally!)

Yes, the changing of the guard has been officially officialized. I’d like to welcome everybody to Paula Patton, the new object of my celebrity affection. And to Christina, you’ll never be forgotten, and truthfully, I’ll probably still dream about you (if that’s okay).

Shoutouts to the homie, Eagle-Eye Johnny Kwest for pinning her amazing fineness during her 3.5 second appearance in the movie Hitch. To this day nobody remembers her from there, but you saw the potential…and we are all better off for it.

To Paula…welcome to my heart.

I spotted this blog post from my boy Matt over at 1115.org…as the Internet Kingpin Bol said, it’s a motherfucker of a blog post about Hurricane Katrina including pictures and interviews straight from the N.O. It’s powerful stuff and Matt is one hell of a photo reporter. So take a gander…consider it When The Levees Broke Part 5, if you will.

A Victory Lap For Broken Promises

And…

I just saw this story so I figured I’d share it…two posts in one day…

Now I don’t know how rampant this type of thing is down there, or if this is more the norm than the exception but it seems to have riled up some folks. And to quote the article, “where there’s smoke, there’s fire…”

So I figured I’d share.

Fell free to discuss…assuming there’s really anything to even discuss.

From the Shreveport Times:

Black students ordered to give up seats to whites

Status of Red River Parish bus driver is unknown
August 24, 2006
By Vickie Welborn

COUSHATTA — Nine black children attending Red River Elementary School were directed last week to the back of the school bus by a white driver who designated the front seats for white children.

The situation has outraged relatives of the black children who have filed a complaint with school officials.
Read the rest of this entry »

[***EDIT: I've created a new blog to chronicle the goings ons of the Wednesday night Open Mic at Bohemian Caverns. The new and good googly moogly Stock13 Report should be checked out for your livelihood and well being. Umm...its at Blogger so just pretend it's shiny and sexxy. A link has been added to the right as well. Come one, come all.***]

Happy Birthday! (Yeah that’s to you…)

I read somewhere (I think on MTV) that Beyonce said it took her something like two weeks to complete this album.

After hearing it, my first response is: Well, no shit.

Oh, I will be making some disparaging comments about MTV a little bit later on in this album review, I just don’t feel like it right now. It might break up my flow.

Beyonce returns with her second solo offering on September 5, as a follow up to her huge-selling and hit spawning album, Dangerously In Love. To be fair, I didn’t really like that album all that much either. It had its hot moments, but as a whole work…bleh.

Before I get started, I’d like to say that I’m getting a little bit tired of these artists coming out and basically releasing other people’s albums under their own name. Oh, I see you have no clue what I’m talking about. Let me explain. Way back in like 1997 before anybody knew who he was, a light skinned, huge yellow pant wearing, and fresh-from-jail Chico DeBarge descended upon Morehouse College’s campus with one popular Tracy Lee (of “It’s Party Time” fame). They both were signing autographs and nobody went to Chico’s line. At the time Tracy Lee was popular…talk about short lived popularity.

Well, not to be discouraged by anybody’s lack of Nobody-Gives-A-Shit-Itis, Chico managed to release one of the best albums of 1997/1998. The only problem was that he didn’t release his own album, he released D’Angelo’s follow up to Brown Sugar causing D’Angelo to have to go into the lab and record Voodoo and change his style altogether. And we all know how that one turned out.

Actually pretty good, but that’s neither here nor there.

[***Sidenote: There seem to be two different schools of thought on D'Angelo: either you're a Brown Sugar person or a Voodoo person. Me? I'm a Brown Sugarer. Okay, that sounded gay. But you get my point. Voodoo is an amazing work and signalled his departure from normalcy and was clearly done in the vein of simplicity and lots of cocaine, but nothing gets me like "Me and Those Dreamin' Eyes of Mine". In my own attempts to release a classic album that divides fans that I don't have yet, I've taken to heron blunts laced with Lysol. Thank you. ***]

Then in another case of mistaken identity, in 2005, Jon Legend released his multi-platinum album, Get Lifted, to much critical acclaim and commercial applause. Much to the chagrin of one Carl Thomas since basically, Jon released Carl Thomas’ third solo album. Not that it wasn’t a good album, but here goes little Jon Stephens parading around the world singing songs that Carl knows he should have been singing. It’s been storied that Carl Thomas was last seen on the ledge on the 15th floor of a hotel in NYC yelling to anybody that will listen that “he’s just an ordinary person…and the only place he knows to go is down…” I sure hope that the summer rain doesn’t make the ledge slipperly, what with him being all emotional and everything. He might actually jump.

Well, Beyonce has joined in the latest line of album jackers. You see, this album has a decidedly different bent to it than what you’d expect from Beyonce. Her vocal stylings, the beat selections, the overall unimaginativeness of the concepts…it would seem that Beyonce has gone and released…

…Amerie’s third album.

Even stole her singing style on a few songs. No, that’s not a good thing. Not exactly a bad thing either but you never hear anybody say that Amerie can sing. We all just talk about the “1 Thing” video and her legs.

You know, she has really nice legs that Amerie does.

The Amerie-esqueness of this album can be felt right from the beginning on the album’s opening track, the summer wood-classic, “Deja Vu”. The shrill yelling she’s doing on this track are very resemblent of Amerie. Hell it’s damn near her trademark right now. Sing as if every song hurts. And not in the pain from the heart, but more like pain from the spleen and pancreas. If you’d asked me back in May when this song leaked if it would have been a dud, I’d say you’re crazy.

Apparently we were all had. It could be the formulaic nature of it, or the just blah feel of it that didn’t really resonate with anybody in the club. But do you know why the song tanked? Like the real reason?

There’s no dance you can identify with it. Everybig hit that’s come out this summer has had some dance that could be easily identified with it. Take Yung Joc’s Pantheon level club banger (and my vote for best song of the year). Who can’t do that? Or Lil Jon’s “Snap Yo’ Fingers”. Or E-40’s “Tell Me When To Go”. For God’s sake, even E-40 had a hit!!!

This is also her fault since when she came out back in 2003 with “Crazy In Love” she had the Beyonce Booty Bounce that women across the nation, ass or not, were enthralled with as men watched. It was the dance that kept on giving. Everybody could participate.

Beyonce…there is no deja vu.

By the way, there are only 10 new songs on this album. Two weeks indeed.

Swizz Beatz comes through on the second track “Get Me ‘Bodied” and recycles the same beat he’s given to damn near everybody. It was cool at first, you know the loud claps and stutter-stop beats, but now its just annoying as the living fuck. Especially since he’s been doing it for like years now. Swizzle must be stopped. Oh…yeah, this song just isn’t that good.

Now the Amerie-ness really kicks off. The third song “Suga Mama” sounds like it came straight from the Amerie vaults, which is a shame because this would have been a great song for Amerie to return with. I’m not sure if he produced it or not, but if this isn’t a Rich Harrison track, then somebody is straight studying ole boy’s style. You could close your eyes and hear Amerie all over this. Mind you, the song is banging like shit…this is hot enough for men and women alike to bump down the street at elderly-death levels.

Oh, since I didn’t say this, Beyonce can clearly sing better than Amerie. So there is SOME vocality here…just not so much. And umm, she begins this song by saying “Damn, that was so good, makes me wanna buy him a short set.”

Beyonce should not speak on her songs ever again.

Don’t you love how long this is?

The song “Freakum Dress” is another un-inspired ass song that sounds like an Amerie throwaway. Not much to say here since it called “Freakum Dress”…basically, you should your put freakum (as in freak him) dress on. Once again, there is nothing to most of these songs. If you thought “Bootylicious” was lyrical mastery, well, you will not be disappointed.

And for the record, I happened to love “Bootylicious”.

The song “Upgrade U” featuring Jay-Z is one that’s grown on me. Basically, having her in your life will result in her upgrading you from lifestyle. I assume it means you’ll eat better as well.

But get this people…she actually says this line:

“I’ll do for you what Martin did for the people…”

And I KNOW she ain’t talking about Martin Lawrence who was last seen toting a gun somewhere around Florence and Normandie in Los Angeles. That Beyonce, just when you think she can’t do more for Black America, she goes and offers to provide racial healing.

God bless Beyonce. Viva la Civil Rights Movement. I wonder how Coretta feels about that?

“Kitty Kat” (I mean are you reading these song titles???) is pretty hot…well, I like it anyway. But the shining star on the album is in the Neptunes produced track “Green Light”. This song has three different movements (okay not really, but work with me). It goes from dance to funk to R&B-ish all in 3:29. And its aboutu giving a man a green light. You know, she definitely went for the Snakes On A Plane approach with these song titles. Just left nothing to the imagination at all. This SHOULD have been a single. In fact either this or “Suga Mama” should have been singles instead of both “Deja Vu” or “Ring The Alarm”.

Ah yes, I forgot about “Ring the Alarm”. I do not like this song at all. And I think the video blows. But I don’t like this song for one reason:

Fergie’s song “London Bridge” is like 10 times better and they sound too similar to me.

Plus, why she yelling? And where in the Hell did she get the inspiration for this? I mean its clearly not about Rihanna, that’s been stated numerous times, so where is the pent up aggression coming from? Is she upset about Jay-Z’s mother hanging around too much? Is that the girl on his arm? Inquiring minds would like to know.

The album closes out with two songs where she does prove that she can still sing, “Irreplaceable” and “Resentment”. These are less dancy type numbers and more the mid-tempo stuff that would have fit on the last album. On “Irreplaceable” she breaks down how basically she can find another man if need be. Jay-Z beware. And “Resentment”…well if you guessed it had ANYTHING to do with resentment, congratulations, you can read.

Oh my favorite line from “Irreplaceable” is: “to the left to the left, everything you own in a box to the left…”

Let ‘em know B…let ‘em know!!!

Oh yes, I was going to say something about MTV, the bastards. There is this group out of B-Town (Berkeley, CA) called The Pack. They have a song that’s been gaining crazy momentum all over the Net. It’s called “Vans”. Perhaps you’ve heard it. Part of the chorus goes, “got my Vans on but they look like sneakers…” Shit is bananas for some reason actually. Anyway, apparently MTV initially banned the video because it comes down to being basically a 4 minute product advertisement for Vans sneakers. Well, because MTV is such a paragon of non-exploitation, they weren’t having it. AT MTV, they don’t believe in product placement, which is why they bleep out certain logos and shit from your favorite rappers videos.

Apparently, MTV doesn’t have a contract with Vans since Nelly’s damn “Air Force One’s” was ALL OVER MTV a few years ago. Or perhaps you remember Busta Rhymes featuring Puffy and Pharrell’s “Pass The Couvoisier?” You do? Good….yeah, they didn’t have any problem playing that shit. Fuck, when “Air Force One’s” hit, you couldn’t find a pair in stores anymore, they were selling like crazy.

Well, I was watching MTV Jams on Sunday and the video is on MTV now. And do you know what the compromise turned out to be?

They bleep out the word “Vans”. Yes, the song’s namesake. What kind of shit is that??? I tell you, at least attempt to shield the BS you’re throwing at me…I mean good got damn. Nike is okay, but 4 niggas from Cali start singing about Vans (and throwing AF1’s away in the video, kind of funny actually), and we got to bleep it out.

Pussies.

Back to Beyonce…so this album isn’t great at all. And it’s low spots are pretty low, “Freakum Dress” in particular. It seems like she wrote that shit in something under 3 minutes and just said, fuck it. But the high points are great, particularly “Suga Mama” and “Green Light” and I’ll even add “Kitty Kat”. The rest of the songs teeter on blah to okay. Is it groundbreaking? No. Is it something for the hoodrats to cling too? Definitely. So it just hits right around better-than-mediocre-right-around-average.

Overall, its listenable but I don’t think it has much staying power, mostly because its short as the fuck and none of the songs is SO outstanding (i.e. “Crazy In Love”) that it will keep the album in people’s minds for a long time. It will go platinum (hell it’s Beyonce) but nobody will be talking about this years from now…

…except for Amerie who should be really pissed right now since Rich Harrison just gave away her next single to Beyonce.

And we all know how bad she needs a breakout single, what with not being able to sing and all.

As a reference, just go and listen to Destiny Fulfilled. It’s a MUCH better listening experience and you won’t even miss this shit. However, as of 9am this morning, it’s been proven that this album can grown on you…

Track Listing for B’ Day (realase September 5, 2006)

1. Deja Vu featuring Jay-Z
2. Get Me Bodied
3. Suga Mama
4. Upgrade U featuring Jay-Z
5. Ring The Alarm
6. Kitty Kat
7. Freakum Dress
8. Green Light
9. Irreplaceable
10. Resentment
11. Bonus Cuts: Check On It, Listen (from Dreamgirls Sdtk), Get Me Bodied Extended Version (I know not why they thought this was a good idea)

There’s been something on my mind for quite some time now.

And I acknowledge that it isn’t deep and probably doesn’t deserve too much mention, but alas, I can’t help myself.

I mean, I use words like alas from time to time.

Time after time…if you’re lost and you look then you will find me…

That damn Cyndi Lauper, boy. Way ahead of her time.

Anyway, we were discussing what bothers me. It’s this.

Everytime I hear T.I.’s song “Why You Wanna” I find myself cringing at the part of the song where he says: “Is you happy?”

*clap*

And yes, I do agree with the Tipster, if your ass is phat, you really shouldn’t tell a nigga no…I mean why would you want to go and do that, love, huh?

Perhaps its the education in me, but hearing intentionally incorrect English so blatantly browbeaten just hurts my feelings. And I know its a rap song, and as most rappers are black people, we tend to speak in horrible English all the time anyway.

Hell, I STILL say shit like, “they be trippin’ sometimes…” So there is a little bit of pot calling the kettle ebony here, but still. It’s just so pronounced in that song. They stop the music and everything. It’s like clouds are parting and all of a sudden the only voice you hear, the only authoritative voice you may hear at the end of a heavenly diatribe about women saying no when their panties are so wet is some nigga who clearly KNOWS better.

Okay, so yeah, I’ve heard T.I. talk and and English professor he isn’t. But he’s smart. And I’m almost positive that when recording the song he might have (at least once) attempted to say it correctly. Problem is, it probably sounded better as “is you happy?”

Case in point…I read somewhere that when Kanye was recording the song “Crack Music” from Late Registration, he didn’t want to use the word “nigga” in the chorus, where it goes, “It’s that crack music, nigga/that real Black music, nigga.” He said he tried to use brotha and I believe he said he tried to use something else (EDIT: I was just informed that the other word was “homie”). But nothing quite captured the sentiment (or sounded as good) as well as “nigga”. And the worst part is, I do understand. I’ve been writing songs for a while now and my goal is to not curse or use the n-word in any of my songs.

Do you know how hard that is? Especially considering the source. I have friends who don’t use the n-word because they have said I use it enough for all of us.

Oh well, I’m good at it.

Just like cursing, I’m really good at that.

I remember one summer in Atlanta when I was staying at my grandmother’s house and we were all outside playing. There were these two cousins that lived two doors down from my grandmother and they were like the little 12 year old ‘hood pimps.

Oh yeah, I was 12. I learned to read at 3 years old so at this point, I’m working with a solid 9 years of grammar and comprehension training.

So these girls walked up to us, and one of the cats said, “hey shawty, what yo’ name iyah?”

Even at 12 that stung. I remember thinking to myself, “thats not right…” My very education had been challenged, offended, and scoffed at all at once. In fact, I’m not sure that I could fix my lips to ask a woman that in all seriousness.

But one day…I had an epiphany. I realized that when using the term “shawty”, it is downright wrong to use correct English after it.

For instance, if I came up to you and said, “hey shawty, what’s your name?” wouldn’t that sound dumb?

Reading it might not give you the full effect.

So do this for me: say it out loud to yourself a few times. Try the “what yo’ name iyah” and “what’s your name” after the statement “Hey Shawty…”

*waiting*

It sounds better the ‘hood way doesn’t it?

Which brings me back to my original beef with T.I.’s statement. He doesn’t say shawty before he makes the statement so it seems to me that he could have said it properly. I’m almost sure that they tested it both ways. I know I would have. Thing is, with T.I. it’s okay for him to say it that way because, it’s well, T.I.

Nobody expects Russell Simmons to be able to speak, and I swear Jay-Z is either the slowest talkin’ nigga in history or speaks so deliberately as to not waste a word. My money is on the former.

Like I said, I’m really overthinking this, but it does make me cringe when I hear him say it. Every time.

And it’s Friday, and it was on my mind.

Sue me.

I’m still sexxy.

But to all the women out there, if you ever want to holler at me, and you say, “what yo’ name iyah…” I will surely laugh at you and ask you…

…why you wanna go and do that love, huh?

Of course, I might also ask you, “is you happy?”

And then ask to see your tattoos.

Of your children.

Thank you and good night.

“This Philly cat back it…” ~ Beanie Sigel, “Guess Who’s Bizzack” from Scarface’s album, The Fix

Bill Cosby is back at it again.

Actually, I assume he never stopped and has been travelling the country pissing off black people left and right with his chastising of those in the Black community that he feels simply aren’t doing their part.

Well, he’s gone to taking shots at the hip-hop community…finally.

I say finally because it seems slightly perplexing to me that after all of his thousands of rants and raves (and illegitimate children) across the nation, he seems to have left hip-hop alone. There has been little mention of how horrible rap music is or how denigrating it is to Black women or how violent it is.

I mean, c’mon Bill, even white people know that rap music is to blame for all the country’s ills. Which makes me wonder how out of touch he really is.

I know I’m making a leap here, but seriously, when discussing how fucked up the inner city is, EVERYBODY takes shots at rap. Rappers take shots at hip-hop. White people, Jewish people, Dominicans, aliens…

…pastors, bakers, candlestick makers, cobblers, wobblers, librarians…

…Presidents, Vice Presidents, Mexicans…

…well you get the point.

They all take shots at hip-hop.

For fuck’s sake, Bill…how is it possible that you completely missed out on assigning blame for the ills of Black people to the culprit that causes the Black community to devolve into the guntoting, pound-cake stealing, non-reading bastards that we are? Especially when so many of your contemporaries never miss an opportunity to do so.

Which leads me to two possible conclusions: 1) he actually doesn’t think hip-hop is that much of a problem and is more concerned about the root cause of the issue; or…

STOP!

This just in: Bill Cosby Addresses Absentee Fathers and Criticizes Hip-Hop (click on link to go to Allhiphop.com article)

Oh well.

So the only other conclusion I have is this, 2) Bill Cosby hasn’t been paying attention and finally turned on either BET or MTV or the radio or just so happened to be listening to some shit a grandchild or somebody played and was offended and decided to attack hip-hop now as well.

There is no way in 7th Hell that you can go years chastising the “lower dredges” of Black society without criticizing rap unless you just aren’t paying attention…

…which is what I tend to do with Bill Cosby now. It’s hard to pay attention to him when everything he says seems so doggone persnickety. And I’m not even saying he doesn’t make any legit points, but its all in the delivery Bill. You should learn from Rakim or Kane or AZ. Delivery Bill, delivery.

Every good rapper has a good delivery. It’s why we listen to dumb shit all the time…that and it usually sounds good.

Oh, and he’s wrong on this point:

“They put the word ‘nigga’ in a song, and we get up and dance to it,” Cosby said.

Not true, Bill. We get up and dance to it because it’s on.

Unless of course it’s Yung Joc’s song “It’s Going Down” which, I mean, just totally rocks, in which case we get up and dance to it because we all want to do the dance that goes with it.

Oh yes, and do the “have you ever seen a Chevy with the butterfly doors” part. That part is fly.

I’m just wondering when all of these critics of the lower class, especially the Black ones, are going to decide to attack the circumstances that led to this shit. All of the problems we have now aren’t new. In fact, none of them are new. The same problems that were present in the 50s and 60s are present today.

The difference now is that white America is fascinated by this culture and puts it all over television. And since they’re fascinated, they find us ninja’s to keep it up…it’s a vicious cycle really.

People are well within their rights to get upset at the state of Black America, and hell, hip-hop. But rarely is anybody doing shit to combat the very problems that we so often rail against.

Fuckin’ armchair activists, that’s what it seems like most of us are. Granted, I wouldn’t put Bill Cosby in that boat, and in some ways I suppose he’s earned the right to be a crochety old fuck. I think I’d just appreciate it more if I felt like he wasn’t so out of touch on some of these things.

Because now he just seems like he’s whining. And messages get lost in the whining.

When was the last time you wanted to do anything for somebody who was whining to you about something? It was like 10 minutes before never for me.

“This is a great evening because we’re calling on men to come claim their children,” said Cosby, who spoke for 20 minutes before joining a panel to field questions. “And that’s part of being a man. You cannot be a man at all if you haven’t claimed your child. Some of you have three, four, five of them. You have more children than you have jobs.”

This is kind of tangential, but I always have a problem with these speeches. Namely, it seems like he’s preaching to the choir. The very fathers he’s talking about probably aren’t there listening to him nor would they care.

And that crosses all color lines.

Many people posit that the family structure is what has the Black community mired in stagnation.

I agree with that too, and I wonder how you make that point to the fathers who aren’t there because those are the ones that need to hear it most.

More questions, fewer answers.

It’s not easy being Black.

Or hip-hop for that matter.

I just got back from Miami…again.

Apparently I can’t keep my ass in DC during weekends this summer and its been like that since May. Anyway…

When I tell you I’m in love with that city, well, that means I’m in love with that city. I don’t even know why. Maybe its the water and the beaches. Perhaps its the scantily clad women walking all over the place.

I’ll tell you what it’s not. It’s definitely not the horrendously asstastic service we got at the KFC on 71st Street in Miami Beach. And it’s not really the weather either which has the potential to both suck ass and blow tushy at the exact same time.

Seriously, how many grown men do you know use the word “tushy”?

I must give a shoutout to my host for this past weekend, the homey, the one and only Go.tdam.n Diva. Okay, so you know how they say its not what you know but who you know?

Dude…she’s like so great to know.

No, no wait…so say you go out of town to kick it with your friends. And they live in some new exciting city. And everybody knows that when you go out of town, the goal is to go out. Let’s just say, hanging with the right people can increase your club enjoyment and and overall Miami enjoyment by like 100 percent. That my friends, is what friends are for. Hell, I need to become somebody just to be able to repay the favor.

I have some good friends, I swear.

As with most trips I take, I leave with a greater understanding of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Well that’s usually because I spend so much time drunk off of my ass that I tend to see things a little differently than I otherwise would. Well, this trip was no different as I gained some very interesting insights of great interest and insight. So let’s just delve right in.

1. Miami has some SERIOUSLY fuckin’ beautiful people.

So we were hanging out at Opium Garden/Prive and I couldn’t help but notice how gotdamn beautiful the women were. The last time I was in Miami, I have to admit I was a little disappointed by the quality of women just strolling about. Hell, one of the first things everybody tells you about Miami is how beautiful the people are. So the first night we went to the club, I was literally just looking around the whole time in amazement…then drinking…then looking.

One could even say that I was excited.

Come to find out, it makes total sense now. You see, I did a google search on Opium and read some of the reviews of the place and the one common thread was that everybody said its hard as fuck to get in there. Unless…

So basically, they select who they are going to let in this bitch. They select the beautiful people (or people they know). I noticed that there wasn’t much of a line, just a big ass group of people waiting to get in the club. Apparently, many of them were waiting to get “picked” to enter. Bottom line: Be a cute woman or be with cute women, it seems as if it will make youre life easier when trying to get into these places.

Hence, the beautiful people. Not that I gave a shit about what it took for folks to get in. Why? Because me and my boy were inside bitches!!!!!!!

2. I think I’m a racist.

Okay, that sounds way worse than it really is so let me explain. We’re in the club and there are all of these beautiful people around. But they’re like 90 percent Latina. Not that I have a problem with that. I love all women. But as soon as I saw a black woman I automatically paid her way more attention that I probably would have outside. I found myself continuously looking for black women. Granted, I was appreciating the shit out of the Cuban chicks in that bad boy. And good googly moogly (that thang is juicy) they were fine, but apparently there is nothing like a black woman in my mind.

To my black women out there, I love you. Act right!

I kid, I kid. (kind of)

3. This comes courtesy of my boy Frank aka The Most Shady: Two bottles does not make you a baller.

Let me tell you a little something about this club here. They have tables all over in there. In order to get priority seating at a table and shit and to guarantee that you’ll actually have a place to sit, you have to order a bottle. The cheapest bottle? I think I was told it’s a bottle of Moet (I think). You know what that’s gonna run you up in there? $270.

So let’s do the math kiddies. Fuck that, let’s give you an example. On Saturday night, we were chillin. We were sitting in the VIP section at a table (and no we ain’t pay for no bottles…we were just cool like that through association). These three chicks mentioned to one of the hostesses in there that they wanted to sit down.

Sucks for them, because them niggas had to procure an expensive as bottle of some shit they probably didn’t want. I’m talking about at least 3 bills on that ass. AND they had to share a table with the cool kids from out of town.

Panama and The Most Shady 4. I just may be getting a little too old to go to the club all the time.

Clubs close at like 5am in Miami. This means that I didn’t get to sleep before 6am two nights in a row. Well color me exhausted and slap my honky tonk. But that doesn’t make me old.

What makes me old is this. I found myself checking out the architecture in the damn club. Like literally looking at moldings and shit. The spacing and location of things. When you’re 18, the last thing you give a shit about a club is what it really looks like. It’s why you can go party in what really are just make shift warehouses and have the time of your life. Now I’m looking at the aesthetics and shit.

Forget that there are scantily clad women shaking what their mother’s gave them all in my purview. Nope, I want to know who did the drapes.

Shoot.

Me.

5. Ft. Lauderdale is pretty cool.

Not much to say there. But it’s like the Miami you take your kids too when you’re too afraid of all the beautiful people down on South Beach. Less crowded, seems more family oriented. I like Ft. Lauderdale…but only if I don’t have a car and my camels on strike rendering me helpless on my quest to get to Miami. I’m young and verile…South Beach all day bitches.

6. Turn off the radio…ah fuck it, just listen to it all the time.

My friend is a major Kelis fan. And being as I’m in the pre-release date album procurement industry, I sent her the Kelis album sometime last week before getting to Miami. Do you know we listened to that album every gotdamn day while I was there. AND…this isn’t to say that I actually WANTED to hear it. I gained such a healthy disdain for that album that you know what I did when I got home to DC???????

I burned a copy and put it in my car despite not liking it very much. Apparently, repetition can make you a fan of anything. Which would explain why I like half the songs I like despite there being very little redeeming qualities to any of them.

Shit my new favorite song just might be “Like You” off that album.

“I don’t just like you/I like you like you…” ~Kelis “Like You”

That’s deep shit. Or not.

7. Oh yeah, I saw Snakes On A Plane.

I don’t care what anybody says, that shit was entertaining. It was the most predictable, cliche, random ass movie I’ve seen in a very long time. And I was entertained like hell.

Unlike Pirates of the Carribbean: Dead Man’s Chest (or as one of my friends calls it, Boo Boo Pirates), which was the worst 3 hours of my life. Okay that’s not true, but at least Snakes was entertaining. Where else will you get lines like this…

“oh great, snakes on crack…”

“time is tissue…”

“I’ve had up to here with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane.”

I believed I was cursed out a few times by my friends who went with me to see it. And for real though…there were a whole lot of damn snakes on that plane.

SNAKES ON A PLANE!!!!!

8. I don’t even know how to preface this one except to say it…

This is paraphrased from an actual conversation between me, my boy The Most Shady, and another friend of mine, GAW.

KeyLimePie Panama: I can’t eat at no restaurant that gives bad head, I really can’t.

GAW: I don’t do that, it’s nasty.

KLP Panama: (to The Most Shady) She doesn’t give head. She should move to Utah.

The Most Shady: You will, you’re young.

GAW: I’ll just date men who don’t want it.

The Most Shady: What, you think you’re smart enough or funny enough, to NOT do that????

END TRANSCRIPT.

Can I tell you that I haven’t laughed as hard as I did when he said that in a very long time. Can you say, TSHIRT!!!!

The funny thing is, my boy’s been on a roll. I know this girl who goes to the Harvard of the West who on a recent trip to Atlanta got a grill.

Not a Foreman grill, but one of the Paul Wall, niggas from Houston variety. And it said, “THUG” ON IT.

Dude, she’s like, totally not a thug.

Well, upon finding out this simple fact, he retorted with, “Tell her its okay to be middle class.”

Floored.

Okay, I tire of writing this right now, but let’s just say, Miami is my hotspot. We’re supposed to be going back for New Year’s.

Shit, I might mess around and have to move down there off the no bull.

Oh yes, and I now like Benihana’s as I was forced to go in there and eat. You know, we did a lot of random drinking this weekend…and Red Stripe tastes like creekwater.

Miami…I love it.

For those folks in DC looking for something to do tonight, come out to Bohemian Cavern’s for a little country, for a little bit of rock roll (and then soul to soul). It’s a good time and his royal majesty, the Sexxy one is on the mic handling the hosting duties. Plus, Afi (check her MySpace page right here) is scheduled to be performing along with comedians, Frank Nitty and Derrick Thomas.

Bohemian Caverns
2001 11th Street, NW (at the corner of 11th and U Streets, NW)
Doors open at 6pm.

Where were you last night between the hours of 8pm and 2am?

If you live in Washington, DC, and weren’t at Bohemian Caverns for the Stock 13 Open Mic and After Party you were definitely in the wrong place.

So says Panama.

He’s sexxy.

And do you know why he’s sexxy?

Why?

Because he’s taken to speaking of himself in the third person. He’s sexxy enough to do that.

I realize that there the majority of the people who read this site do not live in DC. However, I write about this stuff so that you will all want to come and live here and move here so I won’t be wonewy (I’m so wonewy). Plus, when I have a good time, I want to share the good times with the masses. Minus, I was out of town last week so I wasn’t hosting last week so it felt good to be home.

Kind of in two ways too because it felt good to be back down South and it felt good to be back in the Caverns hosting the joint.

Okay, enough with all of this mumbo jumbo. Let’s get to the evening. Like I was doing before, I’m going to share 10 things I learned last night about that may or may not actually have anything to do wtih anything I learned. Kind of double positive negative.

And I almost think I need to start doing a Panama T-Shirt watch. You see, I kind of accidentally started a precedent of wearing off-brand t-shirts. Well, its become part of the night as lots of random people come up to me wanting to know whats on my shirt. The pressure is on now since I have to make sure that I come with that new-new (new-new for you-you).

This is the shirt I wore last night…and umm, this shit bodes SO well for quite a few people out there:

Oh yeah…

…SNAKES ON A PLANE!

10 THINGS I LEARNED WHILE TOSSING BACK RUM AND COKES COURTESY OF THE BEST BARTENDERS THIS SIDE OF NORTH CAPITOL STREET

1. Open Hour means jack shit to some people…

…and I, for one, couldn’t be happier. You see we have this happy hour from 6-7pm right. But nobody shows up. Like at all. By 630pm, the only people at the happy hour were me, Tom P. (this cat who gets on the congas during the show and during the afterparty he plays with the DJ…real cool cat, you should come and check him out), Russ (the promoter), and the bartenders. And do you know what that means? Yes, bitches. No waiting for drinks for Mr. Oh So Sexxy.

Man, this one particular bartender, Carl (not sure if it’s with a K or a C) was straight hooking me up all night. Good dude. And let me tell you why he’s a good dude. You see, I really wanted to pay for one of my drinks so I could give him a tip because all I had was a $20 bill. So you know what this kind soul did? Because I wanted to pay, he requested that I take a shot of Patron with him because I wanted to pay.

You see, it’s stuff like that that makes me proud to be an American.

Either way, fuck it, mo’ fo’ me.

Hmm…$5 dollars to anybody who can tell me what movie that last sentence came from.

2. It’s not the amount of people, it’s the vibe and spirits of the people there.

It seems to me that we’ve had more people packed inside of Bohemian Caverns before. Hell, I could actually walk around without molesting everybody in there. But let me tell you, the vibe in there was definitely good. It seemed like everybody wanted to have a good time, plus me chiding everybody to pretend like they loved eachother might have helped lighten the mood a little. The band was having a good night (it seemed), the women looked lovely, it was magic.

Okay, that’s way to fluffy and lie induced, but anyway…shit was cool. Basically, you should have been there.

3. It’s a small world after all.

So let me put you onto game. Two weeks ago, I was talking to random folks in the club right. Well, I run into this cat that looks really familiar. I’m like, “son, do I know you? where are you from?” He says Atlanta. Then it clicked. This was a dude who went to college with my older sister and used to hang with my brother-in-law like really tough. Catch is, I’ve only seen him ONCE in my life…like 5 years ago. Apparently he works in DC.

But last night takes the cake. So your boy Komplex (I’m going to talk about him in a few), got on the stage and started talking about rap vs. hip-hop and said he wanted to slap the shit out of a lot of the southern rappers right now. Understandable sentiment. Well, when he was done, I made sure to shout out the South and noticed these three fine young ladies who were hootin’ and hollerin’ from down South.

Later in the night I went to go speak to them because we were like the only folks in the whole damn place from down South. Turns out, that one of the women used to date a dude who used to date my Godsister in Huntsville, Alabama. If that doesn’t make for a small world, I don’t know what does. Another one of them knows some folks I know from Morehouse, but Hell, when you go to Morehouse, there’s ALWAYS somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody.

Morehouse Men just have it like that. We’re something like some pimps.

And the other one??? Well, she happens to work with one resident blogger that we all know ’round here, big Will from In My Write Mind up in New York. See, small world.

If you somehow end up on this site because you told Will that you met me…”hello.”

Oh, and me, heh heh heh, I’m kind of a big deal.

4. When the show is going well, it seems to go really well.

So we kicked things off with this young lady named Shelby, who got up there and after a few seconds of trying to coordinate with the band just said, to hell with it, “I’m going to start singing and the band will just pick it up.” And by George (Paul, Jon, and Ringo) they sounded good together. The band picked up a nice smooth mellow sound from her and rolled with it. And the crowd said yay-men.

Then Joe Young the Jyant, Madeline, and Dope (I swear I hope that’s what he said, even TODAY I still think I’m getting it wrong) got up and did their song “(This Must Be) Heaven”, which is funny, because I was listening to the original song that the music is sampled from all day yesterday. Must be heaven indeed.

Viva la Jesus.

5. That boy Mic Fields continues to be a bad man.

When he turns it up, he turns it up. I’ve spoken about him before on here, but he had it going last night. The crowd was feeling it and he kept it moving pimpin (you don’t know me). Just like with the other performers, when everything is moving in the right direction, and we get it right (two step and let your shoulders lean), the stars seem to align. His closing number was hype and hell, even had me jumpin’ around a little (like Kriss Kross but not really at all).

6. Sometimes, I just got to represent for my Southern bredren because nobody else is around.

This poet Komplex did a set and I must admit he did his thing for real. He’s a very talented dude. But he ain’t feeling “rap” music. And I admit, a lot of Southern shit that comes out right now ain’t exactly the most positive (though I can admit to liking about 90 percent of it, D4L be damned). So he did his set, got the folks involved and I had to go back on stage and do a little Southern shoutout and make sure that though most folks claim to hate that Southern shit…it gets the clubs rocking. I had the band, Cut Tha Check, hit the 8Ball and MJG song “You Don’t Want Drama” and I’ll be damned if nearly everybody in there didn’t start bobbing their heads.

You can hate the Southern shit, but you can’t deny its infectiousness. Like Syphillis, it might not be good for you, but its catchy as all hell.

Ha ha, what you know about that?

Cuz we’re shooters…shooterrrrrrs.

7. Two good ass comedians can sho ’nuff set the night off…pleezbaleevit. Oh yeah, and if I ever get stopped by a particular cop in Baltimore, I’m SO getting off with a warning.

There were two comedians who came through last night, Eric T. Meiser and Timmy Hall. Eric is this goofy white dude who might be more ignorant than me. And let me tell you, this cat was SO fuckin’ funny I laughed the whole time. Admittedly, I don’t pay much attention to the comedians a lot of the time because save a few, some of them just don’t catch my attention. This dude…totally.

Off tha fo’ reely, you need to see this dude in action. There might not have been any group he didn’t take shots at. I mean, he even took shots at Hurricane Katrina victims…AND HE’S WHITE!!! Yes he’s going to Hell, but is he funny? Like America, FUCK YEAH!

Timmy Hall…what can I say about Timmy Hall? He’s an actual Baltimore City Police Officer, but he’s been on BET’s Comicview, HBO’s The Wire, etc. It’s like he just participates in ignorance all around!!! But I’ll be damned if he ain’t one of the funniest cat’s I’ve heard in a very long time. His routine went from being a punk ass police officer to marriage to his drunken and marijuana induced exploits.

And this nigga’s a cop. Very funny stuff indeed. You’d have enjoyed yourself. Yes, you should have been there.

8. A good damn DJ can make a good party even better than the good party that wasn’t quite the best that will eventually get gooder down by the riverside (down by).

DJ Scientific, a cat who’s been around for a while I gather is one hell of a party DJ. He’s a resident DJ at Love Nightclub in DC, he’s been on Rap City: The Bassment a few times, and has DJ’d at the last 6 Super Bowls. Either way, he’s a pretty damn good DJ. Nice mix of old and new stuff that kept the party moving. Though I will say, nothing trips me out more than a bunch of women on one end and a bunch of dudes on the other end like we’re in middle school.

9. LL just couldn’t live without his radio…well I just couldn’t do this shit without my Sidekick II.

Let me tell you. Nobody probaly notices at the venue, but me and Russ do so much communicating during the night its crazy. The text messages fly back and forth, the short communications that require yes or no answers fly all over the place. If I had to do texting on a real phone, it would never happen. At all. And I was about ready to chuck my Sidekick a while ago.

Which brings up another point. I don’t know if people really have any idea how much goes into doing these events. From the outside it looks like there aren’t a lot of parts. But let me tell you, there’s nothing but moving parts that move all night long until everybody leaves. And when done right, makes for a good party.

SNAKES ON A PLANE!

(Can’t you tell I’m like REALLY excited for this movie?!?!?)

10. This is a really good place to network and get to know new people.

You see, there are mostly a lot of working professionals coming through. But there are also a lot of down to earth folks and lots of beautiful women, especially last night…geee-yah. If you need to find a spot to go to on a Wednesday night and you’re in DC…I’m telling you, this is your place. Panama Jackson says so.

Umm, it’s also a place to go to see your game go down in flames. Last night I witnessed some pure travashamockeries in the form of game occur. Hell, I even tried to clean up one mess to no avail at all. I mean, I made good points but I was clearly bullshitting. They were nice enough ladies (it was the three fine chicks from down South), but yeah, even I couldn’t salvage the asstastic mess of pickup line/holler tactic this cat used. So sad…glad he ain’t me.

Anyway, these and other adventures can be found every Wednesday night at 2001 11th Street, NW, also known as the historic Bohemian Caverns.

It’s where we make it do what it do.

The Stock 13 Open Mic…it goes down!

It’s kind of like Snakes On A Plane, only not at all.

Let me just say this right now, I’m actually excited about the movie Snakes On A Plane, but only because I love the title. I’ve been running around telling people about the snakes on the planes for a while now. I like simple things.

I also like good things.

You know, I seriously can’t date a woman who uses sentences like that to answer questions like “what are your interests in life?”

Anyway…

When it comes to dating, there are certain principles that hold true; certain occurences that must occur for there to be actual occurences that occur for the balance of world power to make sense.

For instance, this is a usual order of operations. Man approaches woman. Woman sizes up man. Woman either rejects man (hopefully in a decent enough way) and man picks up face and saunters back to his boys who will joke him about it for the next 10-15 minutes. Or woman accepts man’s opening statement and agree’s to go into trial for a little discovery, litigation, and sentencing.

It usually happens like that in some way shape or form. And you know, when man gets rejected by woman I usually understand why a woman might be upset if a man makes some unnecessarily disparaging remarks because she turned him down. Hell, it’s usually his fault. I’m of the belief that the less a man says, the better he usually does.

Ladies?

YEAH!

I said Ladies!!?!?!

YEAH!!!!!

How many men have you dealt with that have blown a good date or some possible nude Twister because he just talked to much and said something stupid?

*all the ladies screaming*

See?

I’m often perturbed even when men go the asshole route because a woman just isn’t feeling him.

However…sometimes, just sometimes, I believe it’s warranted.

Follow me.

The following situation is real. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

One day not so long ago, this fellow named Pablo was riding the A train in Brooklyn. He caught the train at his normal time and sat down in a seat to begin his daily trek into the Big Apple. Upon sitting down, he noticed a woman that he’d seen on numerous trips on the same train at the same time. He always noticed her because she was attractive and there was something about her that caught his eye. She was special. And she noticed him too. He’d caught her looking before.

Pablo then walked away never to be heard from again.

Now, this heffa didn’t even need to do that. If there is one thing that is completely unnecessary in the pre-courting process, it’s total assholishness. Unless the woman is approached in a jackass manner, there is no need to be a jackass.

Panama’s Theorem of Relative Curse-ability: If you are to reject somebody, the way you are approached should be the way you reject. Anything less is uncivilized. If somebody rejects you in an assholish way after you’ve approached them in a respectful manner, you are well within your rights to say fucked up things to them.

It was written.

I’m sorry, but I almost wish a ninja WOULD try to play me like that on a train when I approach her on some humble stuff. I mean, the dude even said excuse me and opened up with safe lines as to not step on her toes or be overly aggressive or anything.

Oh yes, that mumbo jumbo about, “well Panama, you sexxy mofo you, you have no idea what could have happened her that morning, etc, yada yada yada…”

Yeah, save that shit for the falcons. Her life situation should have very little impact on the way she rejected him. There is a proper way to let a man down so that no unnecessary lives are lost. Think about this…a lot of us reading this are black…

…we KNOW that we’re crazy. Especially some black dudes. And for the white people…yeah, it’s true, a lot of us are nuts.

But we don’t drive around picking people off on some serial killer shit like other whi…oh wait…

Well, we don’t cut up people and place them in the refridgerator to eat later.

Yeah!

You see, my friend Pablo up there would have been well within his rights to ream her ass for that shit on the train.

SNAKES ON A PLANE!

There was no reason for her to be disrespectul. Hell, it was his first time ever speaking to her (and the last…can’t forget that part). And truthfully, I just don’t even really understand what would compel a woman to be jackass like that when a man approaches respectfully.

Okay, let’s think about that for a second. Women, do have to deal with a lot of crap from men on a daily basis. Especially the more attractive you are. I’m sorry, but ugly women just don’t have the same set of problems as pretty women.

But we’re all beautiful on the inside.

*ding*

In dealing with all of that, I can understand how a woman’s first reaction can be to get defensive and ready for the asshole to come out and say something like, “Hey ma, I been watching your ass jiggle for the past two months on the train now. I can’t wait til the train slows down so I can watch your breasticles sway with the brakes…so how about me and you just cut the bull and the sexual tension and just get better acquainted over a bottle of $4.99 champagne and some strawberries on my faux-real bear skin rug at my place??”

Okay, see, I can understand how that might get a little annoying. But is it fair to hold Pablo and every man that Pablo stands for in contempt because of the actions of a few?

“Naw…bitch I said naw…” ~ Day-Day, Friday After Next

In order for us to keep this thing moving, we need order.

We need ordeeeeeeeeeer.

I’m looking for insight into this matter, but I’ll tell you now, there is nothing good enough that can justify a woman being an asshole to a man for no good reason, unless he has slept with her before and he has forgotten in which case she would have been completely justified.

But to his knowledge, he had never slept with her.

Women, let this be a cautionary tale. Me? I might have had to return the asshole tenfold.

Amazing these lessons you can learn on the train.

And for kicks…

SNAKES ON A PLANE!

And for additional kicks, a new friend of mine who chastised me for not posting in quite a few days sent me this picture yesterday. You might live in the ghetto if you see this: