N'Suck

I spend alot of my work day surfing the internet to relive awkward pop references from the 80's and 90's (Go Bayside!). While I earned my state-reduced salary I happened to stumble on a band that was big my senior year of high school: LFO.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1dfEf1qOt4&feature=related

My only thought as I relived this video was "THIS was cool??" A bunch of frosted-hair assholes faux-rapping about how they like girls who wear Abercrombie and Fitch? Not only do the lyrics make no sense, (e.g. "Fell deep in love but now we aint speakin, Michael J. Fox was Alex P. Keaton"), but those words that they manage to string together are naturally enraging to anyone who has at least one descended testicle.

LFO stands for "Lyte Funkie Ones." Apparently this means they're white boys who are down with the funk. Well, play that funky music, white boys. I'm guessing the lead singer, the guy with the Zack Morris hair and Jersey accent is supposed to be the "tough guy" of the band. You can tell when he sings "I'll steal your honey like I stole your bike" means that he's ready to throw down for his boys. But beneath his wrong side of the tracks exterior, he has a soft spot for Abercrombie and Fitch-wearing socialites.

So seeing as these guys are probably millionaires, I'm guessing it won't be too hard to travel back to the 90's and start my own boy band. I'll round up a group of talentless Gap models and call it D-BAG. They'll make boatloads of money singing about how they like girls. Girls with nice clothes. Of course, as their music manager I'll hold all of the profits in trust. Then I'll schedule them for a concert at 7:30 a.m. on September 11, 2001 at the top of the world trade center, pants them on national TV, and parachute off the building screaming lyrics from Journey. Kanye West can open.

Hey Bodhi, Vaya Con Dios

The second lead in the greatest film of all time has cast himself into the figurative giant tsunami never to return. Patrick Swayze passed away today at the age of 57. Without him, there would be no Bodhizafta, no ex-presidents, no beach football amid a gasoline-soaked blaze. And no Red Dawn, either; easily the second greatest movie of all time...or Roadhouse: #3.

This is honestly one actor I'm going to miss. I'll feel nostalgic every time I watch Point Break from this point onward. Rest in Peace.

"Yo Johnny, I'll see you in the next life"

-Bodhi