Archive for music

Its The End Of The World

Posted in Disaster with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 19, 2011 by Suge White

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In case you haven’t noticed, 2012 is bearing down on us like an out of control station wagon with a coked-up James Brown behind the wheel.  We are all watching as massive earthquakes, tsunamis, and hurricanes rock our tranquility.  All the while, Charlie Sheen is running around like some half assed anti-christ trying to corrupt our youthful exuberance.  Seriously people, we need to put down the crack pipes and pick up the shovels. We should be building bomb shelters… or space ships… or some really cool kind of oven that runs on the decaying remnants of our hopes and dreams.  The bottom line is that we should be preparing for our Armageddon.  And even if we can’t save our selves, we should at least be trying to live it up while we are still here.  With that being said, go out and try some new things.  I’ve never helped an old lady cross a street with her groceries, so guess what is first on my list of things to do? If you guessed ‘helping an old lady cross the street’, you are an idiot for thinking I’m going to waste my final days helping out those that have lived much more life than I will ever see.  Sorry, grandma but I’m going to steal your groceries and pawn them off to buy some heroin.  I’ve never done heroin before, nor have I ever wanted to, but hell, the world is going to end and I’m interested to see what all the hype is about.  I’ll have a needle in my arm, a crack pipe in my mouth (which I picked up after accepting my impending doom), and a dirty chick on the end of my dick.  No more caring and no more thoughts.  All that will be left is black tar and hideous lower back tattoos.  Get like me and accept the inevitable.

Sex, Drugs, and Sheen

Posted in Disaster, Fucked Up People with tags , , , , , , , , on March 4, 2011 by Suge White

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Can we please stop talking about Charlie Sheen?  I will admit that I do it myself but there’s no denying that it’s a worn out story.  Infatuation is down right unhealthy.  We shouldn’t spend so much otherwise liveable time hemorrhaging over the downfall of a single drug infested individual.  Charlie Sheen is hardly the first celebrity to meet the downfall of drugs.  Let us not forget Keith Richards, Bobby and Whitney, or all of those “that kid who was in all those movies”.  They are all just people… who occasionally smoke crack and fantasize about creating sex mansions.  I think that it’s time that we all start living like celebrities because, obviously, that’s what peaks the interest Americans.  We should go out, do our own drugs, fuck our own hookers, and create our own temporarily quotable moments of pure insanity.  I don’t know about you but while I may not be able to afford a suitecase filled with blow, I could probably afford to fill a camera case or a small jewelry box if I really wanted… and lets be honest, that’s still alot of blow (or so I’ve heard…. from other people).

Get Me Out Of Here

Posted in Make Decisions with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 26, 2011 by Suge White

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Right now, it’s cold enough to melt fire.  All winter long, the snow has been accumalting like our national debt but it’s the bone chilling wind that really bothers me.  This wind could rip the nipples off a rhino.  With climate change ready to bust it’s load all over planet earth, I fear this sort of torture will become more common.  A hasty retreat may be my only option but where should I go? Perhaps Libya?  If Qaddafi has taught me anything, it is that you can find some really nice sunglasses in Libya.  Maybe I could go to the Ivory Coast.  They have an internationally recognized president who does nothing and then they have guy who just runs shit.  Sounds like Bush and Cheney. What about Amsterdam?  Supposedly they are now trying to limit drug use amongst foreigners.  So in other words, I will not be going there.  Iowa? Okay, that’s a joke.  Who the fuck would want to live in Iowa? For some unknown reason, when I think Iowa, I think hobo hotbed.  If I don’t know how to hop a train or how to cook beans over a dumpster fire, I don’t think I’d survive a week in Iowa.  That leaves me with Texas. The land of steers and queers, or so they say.  Which gets me thinking, if Texas has both queers and steers, it would beg to reason that there must be some segment of the population that’s is both queer and steer.  With that being said, what does a gay cow taste like and would I want to eat it?  I’m certainly not prejudiced against cows or bulls that chose to live an alternative lifestyle but I also don’t want my cow to taste like it spent it’s life fighting for acceptance in a cruel world, while simultaneously playing women’s hockey.  And if I’m eating a bull and it tastes like it enjoyed a good bubble bath, a night of dancing, and a stiff cosmopolitan,  I’m not sure how I’ll react.  If nothing else, at least it’ll be rich in protein, I guess. 

I Have Some Reservations

Posted in Stop...Look...Listen with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 26, 2011 by Suge White

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Today, I will offer up a first at hustlewomens.com. I will give a review on my favorite television show, No Reservations. This needs to be done, if only because Anthony Bourdain has crushed my less than conciliatory stance towards the French.  Once I get past his ethnic deficiencies, I can’t help but see that this man posses many of the life goals and aspiritations that I hold. He travels the world with the well intentioned goals of eating exotic food, drinking non domestic beer, and generally ridiculing his foreign hosts. His love of alcohol, his appreciation of punk rock, and his questioning of weird Russian men who come across as potentially homosexual, are all qualities that I admire greatly. Dare I say, this show is pure genius. I also live my life with the very natural intention of letting others know that I am better than them, while also feigning interest in their unique perspective, so I can’t help but appreciate this show. But don’t get me wrong. I would love the chance to prove my superiority to Mr. Bourdain himself. With that being declared, just know that I never have to meet the man in order to do so.  One simple sentence will suffice. I have not once tried heroin, let alone done so multiple times. Mr. Womens 1, Mr. No Reservations 0. I win.  Now that I have proved my superiority over such a deeply flawed opponent in a fashion not seen since the Falkland War, I must admit that I have a genuine respect for his man. He eats food I would never dare eat, he probably bangs women I can only dreambof touching, all while doing drugs I would never even attempt to procure. Anthony Bourdain, God speed.

Get Away From Me…. Or At Least Stop Talking

Posted in Fucked Up People, Stop with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 13, 2010 by Suge White

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Let me reiterate to you how much I hate people.  I hate people so much that if I had a choice between talking to a stranger and getting fucked by a ravenous wombat, I would seriously consider subjecting myself to any number of sexually transmitted wombat diseases just to avoid talking to the likely idiot. Seriously, how bad could love with a syphilitic wombat be? However, if I talk to the stranger, he may tell me about his mortgage, about his job, or about his mothers arthritic hip. Lets be honest. Who wants to hear about any of that shit? Sorry pal, I don’t care about your kids and since you insisted on showing me a picture of them that you have stuffed away in your wallet, it’s only fair that I tell you that your daughter looks like Andre the Giant and your son looks like Boy George. Needless to say, you should pull out next time you hop in the sack with that handsome broad you call a wife. Perhaps my words are a little crass but so is the sight of your hideous children. This brings me back to my ultimate point. Please don’t talk to me. I don’t care if you’re Jesus fucking Christ. On a side note, I would imagine that talking to Jesus would be a real downer. He’s got all sorts of uncomfortable topics to discuss. “So my mother says I am the son of God but I’m pretty sure she just doesn’t want to tell me that she fucked the whole village and my father could be anyone but is probably the papyrus salesman with bad knees and a penchant for boy love. Oh and did I mention that I was crucified?”. For the love of your supposed father, shut the fuck up!  And no, I’m not interested in putting “the body of Christ” in my mouth, you fucking creep!

Hustle Womens 4 President!

Posted in Great American Pastimes with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 3, 2010 by Suge White

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Another election season come and gone and nothing has changed for Mr. Womens. Let me break it down: Some rich people won and some rich people lost, the country is still uncomfortable with minorities and hateful towards gays, and weed is still illegal. What can I say? I’ve learned not to expect much from politics. Elections are like life. Many people come and go but very few, if any, make a lasting impression and the ones who do don’t always stick around to see it.  Some people will help you, some people will hurt you but, in the end, everyone is out for themselves. Never forget that! So if you are disappointed about the election results, GET THE FUCK OVER IT! If you live in Massachusetts and are unhappy, go buy some now-cheaper-because-of-the-election booze and drown your sorrows. If you live in Nevada and are unhappy, go bang a prostitute because that’s still legal. If you live in Kentucky and are unhappy, go make some whiskey because, lets be honest, that’s the only legal activity you are good at. If you live in Florida and are unhappy, do anything that doesn’t involve getting in a car because you are probably really old and so terrible at driving that you are a danger to everyone on the road, in any parking lot, or in any storefront that you could possibly drive into. Whatever the case may be, try to move on…. and try to keep your grandparents from driving (I can’t get over it).

Just Shut Up!

Posted in Disaster, Fucked Up People, Great American Pastimes, Listen, Look with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on March 13, 2010 by Suge White

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Everybody be very quiet. Do you hear that? That is the sound of some jack ass, possibly created through incestual rape, running his mouth about something no one cares about. You know who you are. If I wanted to know the exact specs of your cars engine, I would ask. If I wanted to know about the days events that led up to you buying those shoes, I would ask. If I wanted to hear about your plans for next Tuesday, I would ask. I dont give a fuck about your car, your shoes, or your plans. What did I ever do to make you think I want to hear it? I definitly don’t want to hear it and I think even less of you for entertaining the thought that I do want to hear it. Next time you start up one of those selfishly annoying rants, I’m going to interrupt you, whip out my ball bag, and then tell you all about it like it has something to do with your story. So, if you don’t want that, shut the fuck up and go have a seat.