This record is tops. And she covers Hot Boys like lil’ wayne hot boys.
Also tonight me and My! Gay! Husband! played at Avenue in riverside. There were a lot of people there, we drove the whole way there and back talking about music, and how easy it is to be a HypeMachine DJ. What’s crazy is the reason I started DJing is because all I ever heard in clubs was Fatman Scoop and Crooklyn Clan Mashups and I wanted to mix it up. Now all I hear is fucking Hypem.com top ten blog tracks on repeat.
MGH played a Daft Punky set cuz the promoters wanted him to i think, and played his usual booty/juke/bmore get it popppppin shit. He told me about Paul Devro’s extensive speed garage collection and I now want to dig through his stuff and find a bunch of wobbly bassline jammmmmz.
Anyways I played in the outside area and played a bunch of sing along dope pop tunes. Some biggie, some california love, some BBD poison and some ginuwine pony to close the night out.
It was kind of like a social experiment, and I think those kids all really wanted to hear hip hop anyway.
But before all of that I also flew back from Virginia which was really fun. Wale was insane as was his go go band. Really dope.
Anyways as I got to the airport I noticed a lady in a furcoat who seemed pretty hip for an older woman (say late 50s/60s) we struck a little convo about the propeller plane and believe or not I know her best friends daughter haha. The world is just getting smaller and smaller.
On the plane itself I sat by this really rad chick named Sarah (see below) she was going to San Francisco to celebrate her sister’s graduation and PHD. She’s also gonna be going to Stanford in the fall for grad school so we chatted about the bay area, Barack Obama and her environmental studies.
That was only my first plane as I had to get a connector flight from charlotte back to LA. Lucky for me I sat next to the one 400 lb lady on the plane, I kinda felt terrible so I tried my best to not make her feel self conscious. But having half a chair for 5 hours succccckssss.
heres a pic of me and sarah on the plane photo booth yaya
tomorrow i gotta set up all my cue points again cuz my software fucked up. booo.
OH YEA WHO WANTS TO BE MY VALENTINE?
If you stayed with me at the loft in Chelsea during CMJ, you have heard my rant. If you pay attention to me at all on the internet, you also have heard it. I have a very detailed list of who i would want to be adopted by from the variety of TV families i like. Dad (Dan Conner-Roseanne) Mom (Claire Huxtable) and Best friend Kimmy Gibler (Full House.)
New tv families i woud llike to join
dashians
run
(This was retarded before and had three different versions of the same thing in it. i think i was cut cutting and pasting like nutz. dunno)
Naeem texts me, he asks me to come down to the “Bangers and Cash-Loose†video shoot. I oblige. I get down there and am wholed up in the kitchen waiting for the shot they are doing to end.
Once let into the shoot, I witness what would be classified as soft core porn. Luckily, the participants are unpaid professional ho’s.
Naeem sees me standing there staring at the video screen. He comes over to hug me and asks, “How was your day so far. I go, “Wow, I wish every Tuesday afternoon was like this.”
I stand by for whatever the fuck I am supposed to do. I eat pizza and popcorn, while bitches suck dildos to Naeems dreamy voice.
During some break in shooting, we are corralled into the kitchen for some sort of Vodka demonstration. What occurs next is crappy 6.99 Vodka is filtered through some device where it the ends up tasting like Grey Goose or some comparable pricier Vodka. I clap my hands in the middle of the whole thing and announce, “This is like Science!”
The demonstration involves us trying both the crappy Vodka and in the end the filtered classier Vodka. I then ask them to turn the fancy vodka into cocaine.
Amanda shows up at some point at the video shoot. She looks at the screen half laughing and half in shock, and announces, “My mom in going to kill me.” I add, “Once this video comes out, I am going to pretend I don’t know any of you.”
I did say that three filtered Vodka and Hawaiian punches later.
Trevor and I have decided it might be a little more entertaining for me to write on here too. I think that may mean he might post less dumb YouTube videos. He will instead have to step up his game to compete with the brilliance that is my everyday and every other day thoughts.
Ladies love Trevor. They are usually 19 and have developed their fashion sense by observing photos on Cobrasnake from the uber-hip fashion nightmare known as Tuesdays at Cinespace. This phenomenon peaked at SXSW. My friend Kurt found it fascinating. He and Trevor discussed it at length. They realized they looked exactly alike. They are both dudes, they both wear t-shirts, they are both black. Kurt tried making the rounds with me as his wingman. We had Kurt act sort of shy and pretend he is a DJ, and not some rapper. We targeted girls wearing glasses with no lenses. We looked for ones struggling to keep wearing their Dim Mak dinosaur print hoodie even through it was 100 degrees. We sought out girls with boys’ underwear on their heads and socks over their shoes praying that it could make them the next Cory Kennedy. We targeted girls that Trevor had already tried to hide in the bathroom from. We had almost given up. We were sitting in the back in the Nylon office feeling defeated. Then some girl walking by stopped and said, “Wait, aren’t you in Plastic Little?†We both perked up. Trevor’s coaching seemed to be working. Everything seemed to be falling into place. Our evening was not a complete wash. Wait actually; thinking back it was definitely a dude.
Trevor (left), strangest dressed 19 year old ever grabbing her crotch (middle), poor Kurt (right)
