Tag

lil wayne

Lil Wayne, a permanent tear tattoo marking its descent, “need[s] a Winn-Dixie grocery bag full of money,” and I wonder why he doesn’t just drop it in a CD or IRA account, whose interest rates alone could buy a new grill

The Dark Cristal follows Gelfling Ludacris as he tries to return the Cristal shard to its original vintage bottle. The bottle is guarded by the Skanksis — ten evil vulture-like creatures who drain the vitality of hoes in different area codes to remain young.

But occasionally, a song will crop up that reminds us, “Hey! Women are beautiful and awesome and deserving of being on the receiving end of attention/pleasure sometimes — let’s celebrate that!”

Look, kids in the suburbs. I get it. There’s not a whole lot to do other than invent new ways to get messed up. I was a teenage “rebel” once. My sister and her friends used to pound Red Bull and have “hyper parties.” I had a guy friend who used to try and smoke banana peels. One time, I attempted to get drunk off my dad’s O’Douls.

His eleventh studio album, Write Me Back, is due next month (and I mean that’s fantastic because this homage was happening either way; at least now it can happen under the guise of relevance). Now’s a good a time as any to brush up on the eclectic, puzzling, oft-straight-up-questionable catalog of Kelz.

Back in 1984 while repeatedly listening to “The Message” by Grand Master Flash and the Furious Five, I contracted an incurable disease. Rapilepsy.

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