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LeBron, enjoy that vacation

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Why does it feel like we've been here before? Wait, it is more than likely because we have . My last posts on basketball (2 links, that) were rife with concern that Cleveland SHOULD be a problem for anyone they meet. In so many words, I had conceded to the inevitability of this being their championship season. Man, am I EVER glad I was wrong. Look, I know it seems like I am hating on the boy, and to that I will admit, fuck it. What bothers me not is the amount of times he gives, through his actions, REASONS to be hated on. No one remembers how he reacted to being blown off the court in his first finals, as no one expected them to be there, even themselves so their sweep was not even a small surprise. We ALL remember his walking off of the court without even congratulating his "friend" Dwight Howard, then offering the excuse... “It’s not being a poor sport or anything like that...If somebody beats you up, you’re not going to congratulate them,” James said. “It doesn’t ...
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The death of R&B

Last week, I was perusing a web forum I administrate on, and interact with the users as well. One who I have become pretty good friends with through the years tossed out the question, and I quote… “What happened to R&B GROUPS? Maybe there were too many in the 90's (even though they made a hell of a lot of good music). But how do you go from that to virtually none?” After 46 minutes of work (the kind that pays the bills), 4 minutes of deliberation and about 4 minutes of typing and retyping (from 10:38 am to 11:33am in total), I volleyed back with… “The general thing became that the ‘group’ idea was kinda lame. Think of the videos and shit, they would all be singing the same song to the same one girl. Was this a plan to run a train on her, or fight over her? Therefore... Groups became solo acts or stopped singing ballads and shit.” [ Phlip note – I snickered uncontrollably at the thought of a group of R&B dudes singing to a chick to run trizz on her too, just for the recor...
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True Story©... Get Back on the Getback

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     I don’t forget shit… Let me rephrase that, I do forget a great many things, but I don’t forget things that matter a great deal to me.      In August, I told y’all about a job I had taken on helping a dude finally decide whether or not he should go through with marrying his girlfriend.  The work in said story was foiled by one of my mans named Marlon who basically, figuratively and literally fucked my money. [ Link , catch up and come back, you will need it if you do not remember]      Anyway, I am not as mad at Marl as I probably should be for how it went down because – as he so succinctly put it – her ass was absolutely stunning.  Besides, we been friends since middle school and I guess I should have known that he would probably fuck the girl first chance he got. Anyway…      Three weeks ago, Marlon calls me with a quandary… Marlon: “Phlip!” Me: “Whatup Marls?” Marl...
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