R.I.P. Soulman of G-Funk

CNNEntertainment - Fans and celebrities alike are pausing with reflection as word spreads that hip-hop artist and vocalist Nate Dogg passed away on Tuesday. His longtime manager, Rod McGrew, confirmed to CNN that Nate Dogg, born Nathaniel Hale, died at the age of  41. 

Hale – who was the legendary master of the rap hook -  famously appeared on Dr. Dre’s seminal album “The Chronic,” and provided vocals for a number of rappers, in addition to releasing his own solo work with albums such as “G-Funk Classics Vol. 1 & 2" and “Music & Me." 

He collaborated on a number of hits, including the track that will never age,“Regulate” with Warren G, as well as Dr. Dre’s “The Next Episode," Snoop Dogg's "Lay Low" and 50 Cent’s “21 Questions.”

Nate Dogg was a pioneer and for some time, the most sought after backup man for any hip-hop/rap track. Frequently collaborating with Snoop Dogg, Warren G, RBX and Daz Dillinger, he quickly rose to fame. Here's a couple of my favorites:

"You've got to bring love into your music, if you can't feel it, then nobody else will feel it."-Nate Dogg

OK, So?.......So I'm not cool?

I don't mean to start tweeting my life here, but a bitch just came to me and I have to let it out.

So there I am.  Just minding my biznass cruising my, sleek and well oiled, shopping cart up and down the organic isles of the local market district, and then I realize something.  "HOLY FUCK," I said to the middle aged woman next to me.  "I totally need pep jack express if I expect to make a dank as fuck sandwich." She nodded her head in agreement.

So Obvi I jetted on over to the cheese section.  When I arrived I was in shock, pissed and worried.  There must have been 6,000 different kinds of cheeses form wall to wall, floor to ceiling.  I started to dig.  I ripped through shelf after shelf just searching for that white goodness sprinkled with bits of whole pepper....Nothing. MOTHERFUCKINGEMPTYHANDED!!!  Yup. Nothing.

So this goes out to all those hippie veggie vegan soy milk loving self absorbed assholes.  Ok, So maybe I don't catch every 5 AM show on NPR, but don't punish me by causing an inflated demand for assorted cheeses.  Were you there for market tank of 2007?...that shit causes problems.  There is no way in hell that that much cheese is necessary.

But when it's all said and done, I just want my pepper jack.  So take yo' bitch ass cheeses and leave the ever so versatile pepper jack out of your mess.  It doesn't deserve to be covered by a lesser cheese- I don't deserve that.

Much Love,

Capt. Win

Silly Willy Evades "Locked Up Abroad" TV Crew

There is an elementary school in my neighborhood, owned and operated by the university, which is a clear mind-fuck, to lock kids in our system from ages 3 through 22. Every afternoon the kids are tethered together with rope like some sort of stupid human centipede, and paraded around our block by a bunch of immature 30-something year old bitches on a power trip to re-create their own shitty childhoods.

So I am sitting on my front porch, throwing rocks at these kids, wondering what would happen if I tied a bunch of their teachers together and made them take that walk of shame around the block. I cannot for the life of me, imagine why they would want all of these poor children tethered together. What if one kid walks into the street and gets hit by a car? All the rest of those kids are toast! What if I hit one of those kids in the back of the head with THIS rock? DOMINOES!!! But I digress. Here I am, enjoying a beer, throwing rocks, and a long black limousine with two Nigerian flags on its hood, pulls up in front of my house. I could tell by the sound of the Deadmou5/Mozart mega mix coming from the limo, whoever was inside was rich and down to party. I watch as this guy gets out of the limo:

WHAT A HOMMIE!!! So as you would imagine, I couldn't even contain my capitalism boner when he flipped his limo driver (obviously on an absurd retainer) a bag of buffalo nickels and instructed the man to go buy him a DoubleDown at KFC. As he strolled up the walkway to my house, I began to rack my brain. Who do I still owe money? Have I spoke poorly about the Nigerian IP addresses that frequently visit this site? Where is my Louisville Slugger? Too late, the man, who introduced himself as "Mr. Willus," had breached what I like to call "Mr. Hustle's bubble of security," with a hug and a firm handshake...

...Rewind to early January...

For some reason I decided to reply to one of those classic 419 scams on the gut instinct that not all Nigerians falsely represent themselves as the legal consult of a former billionaire military general who passed away in battle. I mean, give me a break, the late general had to have at least one lawyer, they can't ALL be lying. Call me a betting man, but maybe this was legit! All I did was give him access to the sizable trust fund I bought at Damariscotta Bank & Trust!

...Cut to present day...

Mr. Willus reveals to me that he is indeed who he says to be and that if I can simply authorize the transfer of $10,000 to his account, my funds (estimated at $7.4 million) would be instantly deposited in my trust fund. I took a deep breath and called my accountant. Minutes later, Mr. Willus instructed me to input our secret 4 digit code into his iPad. I looked on, James Bond style, as my account total climbed towards $7.4 million. It is at this point that I realize, FUCK, I AM RICH!!!

The rest of the day was pretty standard. Mr. Willus and I ate Double Downs in "fuck-you-amounts," and talked about what we would do with our new-found wealth. He expressed his predilection for white women, against which I had no argument. The natural progression of the conversation found us at a strip club, making it rain on ho's with the aforementioned stash of buffalo nickels. Alas, the fun had to end somewhere, and as I watched his limo pull away from my house, I couldn't help but wish that "Silly Willy," as I had come to know him, would stay here, stateside, working as my personal lawyer. Unfortunately, someone has to represent all rich people in Nigeria, and it simply wouldn't be fair to take that away from those fine people.

So here's to Silly Willy, and if you ever get an email from an anonymous Nigerian, quit being such a typical close minded American, and send that dude what he is asking for, and maybe, just maybe, you will soon be housing Double Downs and swiping buffalo nickels at Platinum Plus with your new friends.

FUCK OLD MONEY.

DUDE, HEY!.....Thanks for the advice....asshole.

It has been too long.  Too many days have past for me to count back to my last post. Hear now, as best articulated by the ever-so eloquent poet Marshal 'Eminem' Mather's  "I'm Back!"

I would like to extend a big fat FUCK YOU to those who have been inundating me with their invaluable wisdom.  

I realize that the reader may require some history to provide this provocation with some context-  Allow me.

So my life has been taking turns lately that I hadn't previously planned for. It can be a bit overwhelming sometimes, but exciting nonetheless.  Last semester I decided to drop out of school and apply to music school to major in production.  So I did.  However, during the application process I started working. I found that I liked it so much that I bailed on the music plan all-together .  This set a whole new plan for the future in motion.

The commercial real estate business is fantastic.  Innovative architecture, aesthetic appeal, creative solutions, social net-working, opportunistic motivation, asset management, managerial theory, collaborative dynamics,  I mean the list of awesomeness goes on and on.  I get to play around with all of these concepts, and accurately represent myself in such a way that is not necessarily condoned in other occupational facets. Essentially I am only limited by my own rational.  So what is my rational?  What are my limits?  I know that an investment, in a "2012 survival kit" factory should be supported by a well conducted market analysis. Not just approved or disapproved on a gut instinct.  But where does that thought pattern come from? If a plan for this factory was proposed to me, of course I would look at the analysis, but I would consult my gut instinct too.  I can't explain my gut. It's pretty big, it has some unique hair growth.  Is that the best description of my rational? Do other people no the make up of good rational?  A lot of reasoning can be imposed, and proven business models can expire, so what kind of rational keeps budgets in-check and cash flow predictable?  I'm not sure, but everyone else is.

I have found that some how there exists this ENORMOUS population of business savvy laymen.   This underground of potential financial mentors and billionaires has accumulated such a wealth of infinite wisdom that you could fill the Marianas Trench with all the money they could have made.  They can all be related to that kid in high school that could throw a base ball 109 MPH, but went to school for elementary eduction. He could have probably gone pro, but he just wanted to teach 3rd grade cursive.  All these people say they could have gone "pro."  I mean they REALLY use to get the biz.  Just like that kid teaching cursive, they used to walk the walk damn good.  They don't walk it so much anymore, but they now know what they would have done if they kept walking. With utter confidence they speak the language of MAKING MONEY, and they all want to let you in on the secret.

When I tell people about my current situation and job I have to prepare for this super obnoxious chuckle they do.  It's eminent! It's like an allergic reaction where they just start blurting " Oh, I remember when I was young and thought I had it all figured out. Oh man I was on the road to HUGE DICK STATUS, but I made a wrong turn.  Here, let me use this crayon and napkin to make a shitty map for you of where I turned and where I should have turned."  I always hear them out to be polite, and you never know when you'll need a napkin.  I used to listen intently hope to pick up some tiny snippets of goodness, but now I just wait and graciously accept the napkin

So that is where the huge "fuck you" extension spawns from.  If I hear one more "Its all about the right networking", or "It's simple-make sure you identify your target" I'm going to start punching dick holes.  I'm not sure how, but when the subject of business is brought up everyone has developed some simplistic philosophy thats implementation ensures success. It's a god damn plague.  This simplest business model is easy; buy some shit, sell it for more shit.  SHA-BOOM!  Vocalized common sense is not advice- its a perversion of the original function for which words were meant.

Maybe I need to practice tolerance, or maybe I have highlighted a trend in ignorance and can apply for philanthropic funding to stop this infectious disease.  Either way....I give you Blog Bitch 3.



With Love,

Capt. WIn

Fart Blood

The Legendary: A Film About The Roots from Cam Be on Vimeo.

You go Glen Coco!

Because at 1/4 capacity, the Pio drum line goes 4/4. Happy weekend.

Talent Show Saturday

Now I promised myself I would never use the BMT as a vehicle for steeze, and I certainly would not want to cast a shadow over "Explosion's" inevitable post grad sob-fest, but when I saw this video, I nearly quit snowboarding... I mean, whats the point? If some dude named Mr. Sauve (close enough to suave) is going to just front board my face while I am walking down the stairs to the parking lot, I don't even have a chance of making it to the lift.

Throwback

After a two year hiatus the record company fat cats decided it was chill if people made their own music videos and post them on youtube. Well before this one could grow to be Party In the USA HD it was cut short. Let it be resurrected or let it forever sit at the 4 figure mark. Perhaps it's already pasted its tipping point. Well in any case. Let's get drunk.

Woah.

Are you kidding me? Gabourey Sidibe? Pale kid digs deep here, real deep. In case you were like me when you saw this video and said "OK, dude spend the better part of 6 months writing and rehearsing this." No, no my friend, scope these credentials:

-Featured on Season 6 of "Russel Simmons Presents Def Poetry' (HBO)
-2006 Youth Speaks Grand Slam Poetry (Champion)
-2006 Brave New Voices International Poetry Slam (Champion)
-6 consecutive Youth Speaks Grand Slam Finals (record)

So basically he's exactly like Busta Rhymes, but you probably wont see him assaulting his fans... As long as he doesn't go using that cat as a weapon...

Creepy Child

Perhaps the weirdest thing you will see today. Enjoy!