EmbarrasSC Trojans

So USC (insert "star" here, if appropriate) tailback Marc Tyler will miss the 1st game of his senior season due to a suspension that stemmed from his comments outside a nightclub. Tyler was recorded saying Trojan football players made "WAY MORE!" money than NFL players , elaborating with a "make it rain" simulation. He seemed quite proficient. But I digress, Tyler's comments were merely a reply to a loaded question from a TMZ stringer who probably made his year salary off of that bit, while Tyler may have lost some stock on next year's draft. Which brings me to my next piece of flint to burn on... Why should Tyler suffer from remarks made that are, really, not true? Because he embarrassed the institute, according to USC. Though the University  of Spoiled Children embarrass themselves plenty, regarding true shit too. Perhaps this will serve as some restitution on USC's part to show they no longer condone

"embarrassing" themselves. Well, I'm done (Chris Brown voice). Marc, if you reading this, watch you who tell jokes around nigga. And to the instigating reporters... smh. Where's ya dignity?

Gloving? ....Championships

Saturday, June 11th at the FAIRPLEX in Pomona, CA invites all ravers, hippies, and "electro-junkies" from around the world to the 1st Official International Gloving Championships. Apparently the seizures caused by excessive drug use at raves and other techno parties has turned into sport. The uncontrolled movement in your hands due to high meth-amphetamine levels has been masked (or gloved in this case) with pretty lights and deemed "gloving." I've seen a few people get "gloved" and honestly it's scary shit; eyes rolling in the back of their heads,  and baby dribble running down their usually teenage chins. I've never been a big fan of raves, and was completely turned off when I heard your come down of drugs often finds many other fellow ravers suffering from overdoses and other effects of drugs, not weed, that leave people alone on the cold hard floors at the Coliseum. Plus I haven't had fun exchanging colorful beaded bracelets since the arts & crafts time at the recreation center. Au contraire, this event is in my city, so don't be suprised if you see ya boy down there shuffling like it's 1999.
P.S. Ravers don't come to my town fuckin' shit up... Increasing crime rates and what not.

Johnny Cum Wrongfully

Yesterday morning, breaking news reported former Senator John Edwards and Presidential nominee was indicted on charges that stem from reports saying Edwards wrongfully used campaign dollars.... AND GAVE THEM TO HIS MISTRESS!!! His SIDEPIECE!!! The one he impregnated, initially denying any wrongdoing. If reports are true, Edwards is in major violation of the "game". At no time are you to give any funds to one your bench players.

Charges brought against the former North Carolina Senator include conspiracy and violations in campaign policy. This situation is an Eminem song line that has come to reality "Lord please send me a brand new car, with a prostitute, while my wife's sick in the hospital" Eminem prophecized on The Marshall Mathers LP, mocking a fictional politician. I am now convinced rap influences people to do bad things. 

You've got to be a ruthless individual to cheat on you wife who would die of cancer shortly after initial reports broke of Edwards' infidelity. According to CNN.com "[t]he most widely reported theory -- which the Edwards team has publicly neither confirmed nor denied -- is that the money was given to keep Edwards' wife, Elizabeth, from finding out about his mistress and child." Edwards has pleaded not guilty to all charges, as a politician would. Watch Edwards deny any wrongdoing here

The Day the Music Died

     First and foremost, I would like to thank Bionic for inviting me up to his blog here.  Unfortunately my first post here on Bionichles isn't a celebration.  I am here today to tell you about a giant mistake Mt. San Antonio College is making.  Administration at Mt SAC has decided that KSAK's radio signal will better suit students needs by airing the new Mt. Rock Radio through it.  This simply is not true.  This decision has been made by administrators, not broadcasters, under what i believe to be the advice of Tammy Trujillo.  I also believe that this move is not collegial and is self serving.  I have volunteered at audio8ball.com under the same group that runs Mtrockradio.com and the training just does not compare to the training at KSAK.
      From my perspective it seemed that Tammy was so sure she had closed down KSAK after the fall semester she was practically gloating about it.  So when she found out that we had been moved to Technical Services and were still broadcasting she immediately wanted us back on her budget and she drew out a plan for for our operations to cease with out actually having to shut down the station.  Her plan is to "simulcast" their new station over our signal.
    We quickly went and spoke to the Board of Trustees.  we asked for them to talk to us, to take a look at the facts, and to also determine the actual value of Cason Smith's training at KSAK.  We were ignored.  So we wrote letters, and e-mails to the Board members, we attempted to make appointments with them through President Nixon's office.  President Nixon sent Vice President of Instruction Virginia Burley to help us.  She first told us that she didn't know anything about our situation and that she would like to hear, but with some prodding from award winning student broadcaster Nelson Aguilar she quickly changed her story and knew quite a bit about what was going on.  She then asked for our questions in an email, which we sent, and she never returned.  She also never helped us with making an appointment which is the only reason we called Nixon's office. We met with student chair Patrick Martinez, he was of no help although not necessarily because he didn't care.  Same story with A.S. president Xavier Padilla.  We were then rail roaded again by Virginia Burley at the Student Senate.  Every possible option that we have explored has failed to even listen.  Hell, they won't even tell us to fuck off.
    I am disappointed by the system at Mt. SAC, it is my firm believe that they lie, they cheat and the way the act is un-colleagial and again self serving, and the only people they are hurting are the future broadcasting student of Mt. San Antonio College and the college's image in it of its self.
    Thanks for reading, again, these are my beliefs based on the events that have unfolded in the past year.  I will not bring up the propaganda and defamatory language and attitude towards KSAK as a station and as individuals that volunteer there.

     I would like to also mention that the year I have spent at KSAK has been more rewarding than any other experience i have had in my whole life and it is a shame that no one else will ever have this experience again.  Thank you Cason Smith and all of the volunteers at KSAK. Bye Bye Miss American Pie.

S&M (Social & Media)

Around 2004, my freshman year in high school, this new craze called Myspace swept through what seemed like all of existence. Previously, social networking platforms like AIM and BlackPlanet existed but none could compare to the pull of Myspace and a guy who unconditionally befriended you named Tom (I always thought people who deleted him as a friend were ungrateful and trifling.) It was nucking futs, people becoming famous who didn't even have talent. Only thousands of liberated pictres for men of all creeds to gaze upon (i.e. Tila Tequila). Remember steadily refreshing your page hoping you had a new comment? I remember people used to treat their pages like wardrobes, steadily trying to get the latest layout and keep it fresh with new music. Myspace had people in the 'hood and 3rd world countries unknowingly doing HTML. And everything was going well until club promoters FUKKED IT UP! Then Facebook emerged and it was all formal. You know, minimal bathroom pics and what not, only adding people you know (defeating a upside in social media), gangbangers using their "government names" (breaking one of the 'hood rules fasho).... no layouts. Humanity's trendy nature made Facebook the most visited site for like 2  years or something crazy. Literally everybody and their mommas were on Facebook like crack in the 80's. And in not so rare cases grandmommas and great-grandmommas. I had my momma as a friend on Facebook until she got the boot for criticizing some of my choice words in my status updates. I also added my little sister (the one whose birthday I missed in Lock Me Up. Throw Away the Weekend, also on my blog) for a while until she started showing my momma my wall. Facebook is grown-up friendly and i'm NOT down for that. And how the hell did Facebook get their own movie? I bet a movie about the Craigslist killer would be way doper... somebody get me Quentin. But as of late Facebook's been losing momentum. How? Hella irritating automatic horoscope updates (it seems everyone's a Pisces these days), breaches of accounts (some serious, some just the result of you not logging out), and guess what? The g'damn club promoters and making a comeback! I'm already over it, I've decided to give my undivided social media attention to Twitter. The same thing 30 million people will be doing in 4-6 months when they find out Twitter is the new hotness. And how does Tumblr work? I wonder what's after that, will club promoters do what no man has done before and realize how to expand their network through LinkedIn? I'm outta here.... @bionic_tbh

RIP "Tractor" Traylor

Traylor breaking the glass with a monster dunk at Michigan.

Today NBA fans around the world are mourning over the loss of former Cleveland Cavalier and Michigan standout Robert "Tractor" Traylor. According to police San Juan, Puerto Rico, Traylor was found dead on his oceanfront apartment floor. Since leaving the NBA in 2005, "Tractor" Traylor had begun playing in Puerto Rico for the Bayamon Cowboys. At 6-foot-8, 300 pounds there wasn't much questioning of how he got his nickname "Tractor", but there might be some questioning as to why he wasn't on a football field. Traylor's cause of death appears to be a heart attack, if so his size must be considered as contributing factor. In retrospect, the recent death of 6-foot-10, 400 pound streetball basketball player Troy "Escalade" Jackson's size must be taken into consideration as well. Though the cause of his death has not yet been released, one can only presume the most logical explanation. If the case in both of these situations, more awareness should be brought to the attention of the health of these bigger athletes and people in general. I took this loss especially hard because my friends used to call me "Tractor Traylor" in high school, because we both were....

HD for FREE... Or relatively cheap

The NBA playoffs are heating up and if you're like me, then you'll find yourself spending much time in front of the TV, eating. I'm sure you'll make it to BWW's a few times, but as expensive as gas and "wild" wings are I'm sure you'd like to watch the Heat without burning a hole in your pockets. Imma recommend some cool munchies to go in on, while you're watchin the game. At your house, where you can smoke inside, drink relatively cheap.... even watch the game naked if your into that. Anyways, the first thing you gonna need is nacho cheese. You hear me? NACHO CHEESE. Personally, hot fritos are my top choice to eat with the cheese. Nevertheless tortilla chips work almost as well. You can even make the cheese some fondue if your in France watchin Tony Parker. Secondly, I'd go for some type of sub, or some other finger food. There's all kinds of sandwiches out there, so to determine what kind you should supply I've got a formula to determine which sub will make the cut (pun intended). If you were gonna watch the game at a Hooters or a Buffalo Wild Wings, a few 5 dollar footlongs or one of those 6 foot subs from Albertson's should do you justice. If you were gonna up the bar and hit a BJ's or somethin, Togo's should suite you. Lastly, your gonna need that main entree to fill you up and absorb some of that alcohol. For this, I'm leaning toward some cheesy, meaty enchiladas doused with red sauce. If your girlfriends cooking game isn't high enough to make some of these to their highest potential, shake her... Or throw some steaks and veggies on the grill and call it a day. Well I hope I prepared you for a home feast during these playoffs and saved you some doubloons in the process. Die slow Miami.

Lock Me Up. Throw-Away The Weekend.

Rapper, The Game has an old freestyle called "82 Days Left", reflective of his remaining jail sentence. Years later (a Friday in March 2011), I'd be granted the opportunity to see The Game live in concert. But with my "score free tickets, get arrested on the way to the concert" luck, I'd never make it. That's right, I was cuffed and booked on a warrant issued for my arrest- why I had a warrant and even been pulled over in the first place is a whole different blog. So off to the "bing" I went. Sober, yet HIGHly irritated, with a $40,000 bail impossible to post and truly not even worth it. Now I lay here complacent, not comfortable with the day and a half I have left on these "sticky when warm" cots, eating high fructose corn syrup based Apple Jelly on whole wheat bread sure to constipate me, when I could've been slightly hung over, celebrating my little sister's 12th birthday at Universal Studios... HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAT! But my "negligence" in conjunction with a flawed legal system (also for a different blog) messed all that up. On the bright side I got the top bunk- the bottom bunk is for the less dominant cellmate. I'm here with a few cool dudes too, they don't get all bent outta shape when you fart. There's one guy with the same name as me and another who's a chef, almost as funny as I am. We've been roasting this stuff they call food since I arrived (no pun intended). Hold on, lunch is here... watery cheese sauce and a starchy substance. Delicious. For dinner we're spose to have black-eyed peas, "I gotta feeling" that shit's gonna be disgusting too. Less than 8 hours into our incarcerations we were already longing for the luxuries free people indulge in unconsciously: Buds, Beers, Boobs, and food in no particular order. Sadly, we're hoping Charlie Sheen gets arrested and finds his way here cause these health magazines ain't cuttin' it, plus the jailer isn't tryna let us get a deck of cards. If there were arts, crafts, and mosquitoes this would be summer camp. Instead, theres cold, metal toilet seats and vegetarian tamales- don't ask. I wish I had your number memorized, I'd call you and hope you accepted collect calls. I'll see a judge Monday, wish me luck. Remind me to get my shoelaces too....
From LA County Jail,
   Inmate No. 2671202

Swag. Nice. Smoke Me Out

How many times you ever got smoked out? Too many times to remember?... Nah, I don't think you know what I mean when I say “smoked out”. Nowadays when one gets “smoked out” he/she simply catches a fade without having money or other tree to contribute to a session- not saying these niggaz ain't just holding out on the nug and the scrills. Nevertheless, the term “smoked out” (like many other words such as swag and nice) has lost its meaning. Originally, when you were “smoked out”, usually a group of individuals would obtain some high-quaility or a high quantity of bud (sometimes both) and make it a mission to get you “dumb loaded”. I'm talking beyond being “juicy”- the point where your mucous membrane is highly active and your joints feel lubricated (no pun intended).... Like the times you were dizzy and nauseated, with food and sleep being the only cures. The times you swore you'd never hit it again. You know the time you passed on the Barack O“bomb”a kush that made you pause... in the middle of your sentences 'cause you were so... high. Yeah those times. That was getting smoked out. Those times were good, laughable, memorable. So much so that these times beagan being exploited. I can imagine the first pseudo-smoke out happened like this: Some guy who didn't have money or or nug to contribute to the session- once again not saying this nigga wasn't holding out- approached a sponsor of his last smoke out and asked him to smoke them out knowing he would not reach complete obliteration. He basically kissed the guy's ass, polished his apple. With his sly grin or her puppy dog eyes. Just wanting to catch a quick fade until they got their own bag, or until they found another sponsor willing to get them high in exchange for an ass kissing. Because it feels good seeing the little homie trip out on Led Zeppelin, bogarding the Doritos, right? But when their tolerance exceeds a few bong bowls, its time for them to start putting 5 on it. So stop smoking out niggas you hang with everyday. And stop asking to be smoked out, phrases like "can I hit that with you", "put something in the air" or "smoke something" are appropriate and acceptable.