IT REALLY TIED THE ROOM TOGETHER

The treachery of images


TO: ALL OVER MAMI'S LIKE BODY PAINTERS
FROM: HYPOTHETICALLY WILLIAMS
RE: NOT TO RAIN DANCE ON THE PICNIC...

YOU AND ME GO BACK LIKE GO-BOTS, RIGHT, CHIEF? CAN I ASK YOU SOMETHING THAT'S BEEN BUGGING THE SHIT OUT OF ME? NOW, I KNOW YOU DON'T DO THIS KINDA STUFF ANYMORE; THE CHARITABLE SIDE OF YOU IS GIVING MORE THAN JUST CAB FARE AND DIRECTIONS THESE DAYS...



...BUT TELL ME SOMETHING:

LET'S SAY YOU'RE AT 40/40. IT'S BEEN A LONG NIGHT. SOME FUCKING ROCKET SCIENTIST FORGOT TO PUT THE SPECIAL SAUCE ON YOUR SURF AND TURF SKEWERS; YOUR BODYGUARD CAUGHT A LEE PRESS-ON EYE JAMMIE WHEN HE PHYSICALLY PREVENTED JOUMANNA KIDD FROM SEARCHING UNDER THE TABLES IN THE VIP FOR ONE OF JASON'S GOATEE HAIRS. AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF...THAT FUCKING MILDEW SMELL IS BACK!




SO YOU GET SOME HENNY IN YOUR SYSTEM AND START CHATTING UP THE NEW GREETER/HOSTESS CHICK. THE ONE THAT KINDA LOOKS FARRAH OUT OF CHERISH, OR, IF YOU'RE BEING HONEST, LIKE RIHANNA.





I'll remember you, Ma. You're the one that got away.

YOU'RE FEELING ADVENTUROUS. YOU DECIDE TO LIVE A LITTLE AND ROLL BACK TO BROOKLYN TO THE LOVELY'S SPOT. LAST TIME YOU SAW 718 WAS JANUARY AND THAT WAS JUST THE MODEL VERSION RATNER HAD BUILT SO Y'ALL COULD SEE WHERE TO DROP GEHRY'S RUCKER.

SHIT, YOU MIGHT FUCK AROUND KILL TWO PIGEONS WITH ONE STONE SEEING AS HOW THE SIDEKICK IV JUST REMINDED YOU THAT YOU'RE PAST DUE ON IMPLORING B-K TO LICK A SHOT FOR BIG POP IN HEAVEN! NOT SURE IF YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TIME.



YOU GET BACK TO HER LIL' ALCOVE STUDIO (BECAUSE SHE "IS JUST DONE" WITH ROOMMATES) . SHE TELLS YOU ABOUT HER DAY YOU PRETEND YOU'RE LISTENING.

ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER AS THESE THINGS ALWAYS DO. NEXT THING YOU KNOW MA IS UNBUTTONING THE CRISP PURPLE LABEL AND WHATEVERWHATEVER : IT'S. ABOUT. TO. GO. DOWN. (THE CROWD GOES WILD).

YOU LOOK DEEP INTO HER EYES LIKE MAJOR PAYNE. WELL, YOU'RE REALLY STARING AT HER FOREHEAD, WONDERING ABOUT HOW MUCH OF A CUT CURTIS IS GONNA GIVE YOU ON THAT FREEWAY ALBUM AND IF THERE'S ANY WAY TO TALK SNOWMAN OUT OF CALLING THAT SHIT A USDA RECORD (THUG MOTIVATION 103: SUMMER SESSION...HAS A RING TO IT, RIGHT!?) BUT SHE'S BUYING IT BECAUSE YOU KNOW HOW TO SELL IT. TONE TO THE PHONE, RIGHT, KILLA?

AND THAT'S WHEN YOU SEE IT.

ON THE WALL.

FOR ALL WHO PASS THROUGH THOSE DOORS TO SEE...

A PHOTO OF POLOW DA DON'S MAGIC STICK.




THERE'S A RUSH OF BLOOD TO THE HEAD. YOU QUICKLY PUT THIS IN BOXES. YOU TURN TO MS. UMBRELLA TOO AND PLEAD FOR A KERNEL OF HONESTY IN THIS SHANTY TOWN OF LIES. AND SHE CONVINCES YOU: IT IS NOT IN FACT JIM JONES' ONE-EYED WILLIE



(YOU MIGHT'VE HAD TO SYLVIA PLATH'D THE BUTTON WERE THAT THE CASE).

NEXT YOU HAVE A BY-YOURSELF-MEETING AND THOROUGHLY AFFIRM THAT SEEING THIS DOES NOT MAKE YOU THE GAY RAPPER.




FROM THAT POINT ON IT'S CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE, RIGHT? YOU CAN TAKE THE GREEN-EYED BANDIT EXPRESS ELEVATOR OUT THE MOTHERFUCKING WINDOW; YOU COULD FALL TO YOUR KNEES AND HAVE THAT FEELING WHERE YOUR THOUGHTS ARE THESE TOTALLY SEPARATE, TOTALLY SELF-SUSTAINING PHONE BOOTHS AND THERE'S LIKE THIS VAST UNINHABITED SHOPPING MALL IN YOUR HEAD...



BUT THE CLONOPIN IS DOING THE DAMN THING AND YOU STAY UPRIGHT. YOU STAY IN THE MOMENT. THIS IS HAPPENING. YOU KNOW WHAT JAY-Z WOULD DO. JAY-Z WOULD LEAVE A CHICK PIGEON-TOED. JAY-Z WOULD THUG 'EM, LOVE 'EM, LEAVE. HE WOULD NOT FUCKING NEED THEM. JAY-Z WOULD NOT NEED A TIME OUT TO DRAW UP A LAST SECOND PLAY.

BUT WHAT THE FUCK DOES SHAWN DO? WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOUR MANHOOD IS CONFRONTED WITH THE MANHOOD OF THE MAN WHO SAID YOU AREN'T FUCKING COOL ANYMORE?

DOGGIE, I'M JUST PLAYING STEVE KROFT HERE. YOU PROBABLY HAD MORE SEX THE NIGHT YOU DIDN'T GET ANY TRIM DURING A ROC THE MIC TOUR STOP THEN I HAVE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. I GOT MY PHILADELPHIA LITTLE LEAGUE CITY CHAMPS JACKET AND YOU GOT THAT. LET'S CALL IT EVEN.

BUT THAT SHIT MUST BE LIKE SOME OLD GUNSLINGER RIDING INTO TOWN ON A HORSE AND BEING GREETED BY A SHINY MODEL MOTHERFUCKING T FORD ROLLING DOWN MAIN STREET.

SO MY QUESTION IS TWO-FOLD:

A) DOES EVERY GIRL HAVE A PICTURE OFPOLOW'SDICK ON THEIR WALL?



AND B) WOULD SEEING SOMETHING LIKE THAT MAKE YOU RE-THINK THE WHOLE GROWING-MIDDLE-AGED-GRACEFULLY BATTLEPLAN? WOULD YOU RISK BEING LIKE KANE AT S.O.B.'S EVERY OTHER MONTH TO STAY IN THE MIX? TO KEEP THE NUMBER ONE SPOT ON THE WALLS OF THE WOMEN OF THE WORLD AND IN THE HEARTS OF THE D-BOYZ AND CHAIRMEN OF THE MESSAGE BOARDS?

BECAUSE I CAN SMELL THE GARBAGE; IT'S CALLED THE YEAR IN RAP 2007. AND I BET YOU'RE THINKING "DON'T CALL IT A COMEBACK: THE COMEBACK STRIKES BACK." SHIT, YOU MIGHT BE UP IN THE LAB WITH POLOW, THROWING D'S ON ANY WHITE GIRL THAT WANDERS OUT OF BUTTER WITH STILETTOS AND A DREAM. GOOD ON YOU. 2003-JAY WOULD HAVE MANSLAUGHTERED 'THE MADNESS' OR 'BOY LOOKA HERE.'

JUST BE CAREFUL, HEWLETT-PACKARD....



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