Silence Is Underrated

By now we've all heard the saying, "Less is more" about seventeen-thousand times. So why can't more people apply this wonderful adage in their everyday life when it comes to speaking and having conversations. I don't need to hear about your issues. I don't care that you haven't been feeling well. The fact that you have allergies doesn't concern me in the least. We all have issues in our lives. I have a wife and two young boys at home and a full time job that can at times be pretty hectic and stressful and most of all, tiring. But you don't see me running around looking for sympathy from anyone, and you never will. That's what therapists are for. Or understanding wives I suppose. But I mean, life is tough. It's hard work. Being good at your job on a day to day basis takes a lot of discipline. It takes mental toughness, and depending on your job it can take a lot of physical toughness as well. Being a husband is no different. Being a parent is even tougher. Well, let me rephrase that: Being a good parent is tougher. Anyone can be a father. Anyone can be a mother. Being a good parent is a whole different ballgame though.

But I digress. Suffice it to say I'm not a fan of small talk either. I'll let you know right now I don't give a damn about the weather. I don't give a shit if it hails tomorrow. {It'd be pretty cool to get hail in San Diego in the middle of July though, I have to be honest.} But I have no control over the climate whatsoever, so if all you have to talk to me about is how surprisingly overcast it is tomorrow please do us both a favor and don't even open your mouth. Silence is underrated. Exercise your right to shut the fuck up.

-- Christopher 'Sea of Tranquility' Johnson

Ice Cube In The Summer Time For Your Cold Glass Of Lemonade

The hot summer weather always inspires me to compile some crazy mixes for the car or to bring to a BBQ or for whatever the hell else I like doing while listening to some of the all time classics. And this can range from soul to classic rock to blues or jazz or even country... kidding about the country of course. Fuck that shit. Unless it's Johnny Cash. But that's a cliched statement so you'll have to forgive me.

Either way, this Ice Cube song has to be on your radar. Maybe if I stop feeling so damn tired and lazy after work and dealing with the kids I'll post up a link to one of my summer mixes for all to enjoy.

Until then, just ride out to the beat...

-- Hobo Junction

Eddie Hazel's Masterpiece

While recording Funkadelic's third album, George Clinton instructed Hazel to "play like your mother just died." The resulting 10-minute epic, "Maggot Brain," is an exploration in isolation and despair, and is hailed as the one of the greatest guitar performances in not only the funk genre, but in the history of music.


Since there's no proper video to the album version of this song I figured this video would be more entertaining than staring at a picture of the album cover for ten minutes while the song plays. Especially if you're on acid. This video will kick the shit out of your maggot ass brains if you're on acid or shrooms or even if you're just really high off some crunchy green leaves.


Enjoy...

-- Funkadelic Gangster

The Good Ol' Days

I've always been huge into Bay Area Rap and this is one of the best videos from Oakland's heyday. Look at the Zach Morris cell phone in the beginning of the video. Gotta love it. R.I.P. to Dion Stewart {he and his brother were Black Dynasty}.

-- Bay Shit

Beck - The Golden Age

Nothing really needs to be said here because the music speaks for itself like nothing else can, so I'll simply state that if you've never heard Beck's album Sea Change you need to add it to your collection as soon as possible. It'll become one of your all time favorite records and you won't be able to stop listening to it for the rest of your adult life.

-- Christopher Lane Johnson

Long Live The 6-Pack!

Every day there seems to be more and more breweries packaging their beers in 4-packs instead of the classic 6. The only time this is acceptable is when said beer comes in 16 ounce tall cans. I can let that slide. But when we're talking about regular 12 ounce bottles, I will purchase nothing less than a 6-pack. To be honest, I feel a bit disrespected every time my eyes land on an overpriced 4-pack of some super fancy beer. And trust me, I'm well aware of the best beers in the world and I've tried them all on numerous occasions. But that's really what it comes down to: These breweries want to feel so special about their precious quadruple IPAs that they feel it's warranted to cut two beers out of the equation. Well, I'm here to say that shit just won't fly with me. It never will. And it shouldn't fly with you either. Boycott the 4-pack. That shit is unequivocally unacceptable.

And trust me, I know more about beer than anyone else on planet earth. I was drinking Sierra Nevada Bigfoot Ale Barley Wine in middle school when most of y'all were drinking Strawberry Hill and Thug Passion. I understand that the vast majority of the beers being sold in 4-packs are stronger than average beers. We're talking 8% alcohol and above. But who gives a shit? Who wants to pay $9.99 for four twelve ounce beers? Not this guy. If you showed up to my house for a summertime BBQ with a 4-pack of Green Flash in your hands I'd probably punch you in the throat and smash the beers over your head while laughing hysterically at you. And if I showed up at your house for your birthday party carrying nothing but a 4-pack of Sam Adams I'd expect the same treatment from you. And quite honestly, I'd be livid if you didn't at least kick me in the shins and spit on my forehead.

Enough is enough, fellas. Gas prices are still through the roof with no decline in sight; the recession is taking its shoes off and getting comfortable in your living room; our government is nothing more than a bad joke, and zombies are literally eating faces off of homeless people. And now you're trying to sell me beer in a 4-pack. Fuck you. Shame on you and fuck you. I will not accept your treacherous offer. You're all cowards and I don't know how you sleep at night.

6-Pack Or Die!

-- Hobo With A Shotgun aka The Real Blue Collar Gangster.

Let The Haters Hate

Everywhere you go in life you'll encounter these disgusting, loathsome, deplorable human beings. They'll shoot down your every idea. They'll tell you that you're not talented enough. They'll tell you that you're not skilled enough. They'll tell you that millions have tried and failed to accomplish what you're trying to do so you shouldn't waste your time. Or better yet, they'll tell you that you have to be "realistic."

What is realistic anyway? What does that even mean? Was Thomas Edison realistic when he invented the phonograph? "You mean you wanna play music that's been recorded onto a cylindrical disc for all to hear? Impossible, Mr. Edison. You should check yourself into the looney bin post-haste." Was he realistic when he decided to create a device that could record moving pictures? Who knows when cinema would've come into existence or where it would be today if it weren't for him. I'll tell you this much: We probably wouldn't be watching movies like Avatar if it weren't for Edison. Not yet anyway.

Or crazier yet: Was Edison being realistic when he decided that candles might not be the best way to light up a room? You know, because of the risk of fire and whatnot. Because of this, Thomas Edison decided to create a bulb that would light up a room by use of electricity. These days light bulbs are used quite often. Good thing Edison decided to say fuck you to the haters. And that was almost exact verbiage, by the way. Nearly verbatim. I believe what he was actually quoted as saying went something like this: "To my many detractors and those not willing to merely attempt comprehending some of the ideas I have to improve this magnificent world we live in, I have but three simple words: Fuck you, haters."

So don't hate. Congratulate. And come participate. Cheer on your friends and your family members and your colleagues. Be a supporter, not a bitch. And trust me, I understand that once in awhile you're going to encounter a situation that you might feel the need to be "realistic" about in order to "help" someone. For instance, what if a one-armed man came up to you and told you he was going to be a professional baseball player one day. You might be inclined to laugh at him, right? Hopefully not to his face because that would be rude as fuck. But I mean, you probably would think he'd be wasting his time to even try, correct? But don't you think Jim Abbott already knew that? It didn't stop him though, did it? He not only played professional baseball for over ten years, but he also was a contender for Rookie of the Year in 1989 and in 1991 Abbott came in third place for the highly coveted Cy Young Award {for those clueless regarding all things baseball that means he was in contention for the title of best pitcher in the league that year}.

So fuck being realistic. Be real; real to yourself. That's all that matters. Let the haters do what they do best. After all, the hatred they spew is nothing more than a projection of the way they feel inside about themselves. They'll never accomplish anything in their lives until they can shed their snake skin and become rejuvenated and ready to attack the world in a positive way.

-- Christopher Lane Johnson aka The Authentic Blue Collar Gangster