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0 comments | January 20, 2003

pete rock signed my record.

the crowning achievement of my week, a pete rock signature on a copy of the lots of lovin' single. i wish i could have just somehow transmitted to him precisely *how* much i idolize him, yo. i dunno... he's the king of beats, and everybody else just makes up his little landlords.

but that was the end of the night.

it started out at about 6pm, when i left my home to get down to south street. and i just want to say one gotdamned thing... it really should never be *that* cold, at anytime, anywhere, except perhaps anchorage alaska, siberia, the great alps, or somewhere in the yukon. good GRIEF. couple the chill factor with the fact that i ain't really have much of a coat in the first place, and you've got yourself one cold little black man.

on the orange line train, i climbed into a seat with one of those heaters under it, and sat down, prepared to sleep... i figured i'd probably need it, seeing as how i had gotten up at around 7:30 that morning, and had gone to bed 4:30 the night before- but before i could close my eyes, i saw the eyes of a young lady on the other side of the train, peeking out from between the raised neck of her jacket* and her hat, pulled down snugly over her brow. i seemed to recognize the eyes tho... she had a little boy sitting beside her, and she appeared to be smiling. it turned out to be this young lady i worked with back in 2000, who i admitted to that i had a crush on, and her very big son. i think he must have been about 7, but the last time i saw him, he was maybe about 4, and much smaller. good grief. lol... anyway, every time i see her (except once when she was with some corny ass dude who looked like he would get his feelings hurt) we exchange numbers, and she tells me how she's single and etc. i'm sayin, she prolly coulda had the kid had she not slept so hard. i suppose i wasn't as appealing back then. whatever. so she slips me the math and, it's cool, cuz i have a talking partner until south st.

she's real cool, tho.. i'm guessing she's @ LEAST two years older than me. possibly more, she just doesn't look it.

so anyway, i make it down to south street, and walk down to 5th and south, try to find these folks i'm 'posed to be meeting up with... from 14th(broad st.) to 5th is a nice little walk, and in the freezing cold, it's a not-so-nice looong walk, but i made it, harassing my cousin on the phone for some semblance of company. i arrived at the chinese food place, and i peek in, and to my surprise, (surprisingly, considering) i see lots of asian (chinese?) folks enjoying dinner. no black people. no friends.

i felt so black in there. lol

i honestly didn't want to leave, it was the warmest place i had been in in over an hour- but i said "fuck it" and skitted my butt down to cue records.

opened up the door, there- guess who i saw?©the ruler

yeah. the squad, complete with nay and Kara S.. HOV!

so we politick and shizzle for a few minutes, then me and sAk run downstairs and grab two copies of that pete rock single, (thank you again sak for the rekkid!!!) purchase em, and walk like 30 feet down to where Fluid niteclub be at. this is around 7:48, i'd say. doors don't open until about 8:05, 8:10.. it was really too damned cold to be out there, man. so we made lame jokes, and bounced around to warm up. dude from fluid posts up the "open bar" rules, which effectively closed the bar. rasheem left because he had to work (i'ont even know why he came) and we wait. i believe i am anemic, so of course, by this time i'm losing bloodflow in my extremities.

FINALLY they let us in.

i'd never been to tastytreats before, so i wasn't sure how it would all turn out, but i was there with squad, which makes everything bearable. i start off the night with a rum & coke (free-*cha-ching!!!*) and take some pictures which i have a bad feeling won't come out, pay TWO DOLLARS for coat check, and hold down a booth for a hot minute while the venue fills up.

yo.. i'ont know, maybe it was because my body was tired already, (in fact most likely because my body was tired already) but that lil rum and coke slapped the shit outta me. my stomach was *very* empty, so that made things worse. lol... but i ain't get drunk tho. after the initial buzz, i was striaght. only had a yuengling after that, and i was satisfied. i was surprised at how much i danced... i ain't tear up the floor by no means, but i did dance. i had fun... mike nyce spun for the 1st 2hours or so, then jazzy jeff came thru.

i just wanna get this outta the way. pete's my favorite producer ever. period. pete is god of the boards... but on the real? he's no match for jeff. i was so proud of jeff, yo... i had to wait until 30 minutes into pete's set for this revelation (tho my boy chris had warned me) but jeff townes got dj GAME. trust me. his mixes were crisp, his scratches were sharp, his blends, all that.. dude knew what he was doing yo. i have much respect for him. pete's set wasn't bad, but a few times, the songs didn't come in or leave clean, he'd play too much of one song, things like that. nuances that lower your GPA.

oh yeah. they played 93 til Infinity. each dj. nuff said.

aside from mofos stepping on my white top tens, the evening rocked. but it's crazy tho, cuz @ like 12:30, i was feeling MAD tired. the joint don't stop til @ least 2. i was like, what's up with me? i was just really tired, i suppose.

around 2 am, i started getting my stuff together, and began contemplating deeply just how i was gonna get pete to sign these records... he's up in a booth, way high, and people are all jammed up on the steps to the booth, blocking the entrance. and then i'm tired to the point of passing out, plus hungry. i was getting disinterested. he takes his set all the way til about 2:30.. and FINALLY i, in the midst of many lame demos, drunken handshakes and shouts of appreciation, thrust 2 records and a magnum44 marker to pete, which he signs, like a troo professional.

*Sigh*

i fart loudly in relief and satisfaction.

i can go home now.
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the eagles lost. aight. fuck the world, yo.
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i'm tryna work for this local magazine so i holla'd at em in an email, and they've responded, inviting me to meet up with them on the 31st. i can't wait yo. i want this to work out. updates in like, 2 weeks.
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no class tomorrow. fuckin' REAL.
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i want to have sex really bad. dancing makes me want to have sex more. the full moon makes me horny as shit.
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*footnote: in my first attempt to spell the word jacket, i actually phonetically spelled it, jack it with the space and everything. what a loser.


*over and out*





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