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True Story©... Decoy Intel Tactics

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     While I am WILDLY guarded with my phone number, it has also not changed in almost 17 years, so people who had it in 2000-01 still have it.  What this tends to lead to in the days of smartphones is that a friend will get a new phone every once in a while and I get a text or phone call making sure it is still me connected to an otherwise unused (by them) phone number and then I won’t hear from them again until they clean up their phone again.      When I got home from Mexico in June, I got one such call from my dude Rob… *phone rings* Me: “yoooo…” Rob: “Yo…  Phlip?” Me: “Yeah, this me.  Whatup Bobby.” Rob: “Don’t start that shit again, ‘Phil’” Me: “Point taken, what’s good though?” Rob: “Not shit, just got this new phone and cleaning up the list.” Me: “Yeah, I haven’t endeavored any women crazy enough to need to change it.” Rob: “Heh.  Well I had another question though.” Me: “Yeah, what’s the deal?” ...
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Slaughterhouse - "Slaughterhouse"

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Here we find Royce Da 5'9", Joe Budden, Joell Ortiz and Crooked I, 4 rappers from four places... No, fuck that, you can Google the story. All the 3 of you need to know is that when I found THE internet, Eminem's first album was coming out and Royce was on the best song album (in my opinion, of course) and when I got HIGH SPEED internet, I was getting Clue CDs for free and Joe Budden was TEARING THEM DOWN. Furthering of connoisseur (yes, that is spelled right) comes from my years at this shit, see my summary of the 90s last week in this very blog if you doubt me. I was never into Crooked I, and only within the last 6 months began to feel Joell Ortiz, but the fact remains that I respect the work of all 4 involved parties PRIOR to this project, especially Budden and Royce. Ignoring the paths of Crooked I and Joell Ortiz, who would flounder on Death Row Records and Aftermath respectively, I STAYED in my fanship of Joey and Royce in the in between, as far as to feel just a litt...
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April 12 -- Happy Birthday, Herbie!

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Another April birthday repost jant, this. Today marks the anniversary of Herbie Hancock's 70th trip around the sun, give or take the amount we lose to the idea of time being a still inexact science, thus necessitating leap years. As some of you know already, I happen to be one of the biggest fans of Herbie you'll ever come across. I happen to very much dig how easily and effectively he blurs the lines between genres of music without cheapening anything he should happen to involve himself in. Need someone to play a concert piano? You got it! Need someone to master the not-so-much-used clavinet? Yep! Hip hop is taking influence now, could you learn the 808? Damn skippy! As one of the ones tapped to play in the youngest of Miles Davis' famous quintets -- known as the "second great quintet" -- we saw Herbie come in on what SHOULD have been the coattail of an even-then careermaker in Jazz music, but still find his own right there, using things rarely if eve...
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