Fuck Kobe, I’M Doin’ Work

Check out video from last night’s show, with 1000% better audio from the test run last weekend:

Brother Darkness & Professor CC doin’ Stout baller

Part 1 (to 45:00)

Jay-Z ¤ Dirt Off Your Shoulder –> Digital Underground ¤ Freaks Of The Industry –> 2Pac ¤ I Get Around –> Chubb Rock ¤ Treat ‘Em Right –> Ann Peebles ¤ I Can’t Stand The Rain –> Janet feat. Joni & Q-Tip ¤ Got Till It’s Gone –> Junior M.A.F.I.A. ¤ Player’s Anthem –> Blackstreet ¤ No Diggity –> Khia ¤ My Neck, My Back –> DJ Brother Darkness ¤ Push My Neck, Push My Back* –> Run-DMC ¤ It’s Like That –> Ice Cube feat. George Clinton ¤ Bop Gun (One Nation) –> A Tribe Called Quest ¤ Can I Kick It? –> Warren G & Nate Dogg ¤ Regulate –> Ace Of Base ¤ All That She Wants –> Black Sheep ¤ The Choice Is Yours –> Jungle Brothers ¤ Because I Got It Like That –> Craig Mack ¤ Flava In Ya Ear –> ? ¤ Holiday Milkshake*

Part 2 (1:49:14 to 2:33:04)

Positive K ¤ I Got A Man –> Busta Rhymes feat. Pharrell ¤ Light Your Ass On Fire –> N.E.R.D. ¤ Lapdance (rework) –> Tripp ¤ Paper Rump* –> Mariah feat. ODB ¤ Fantasy (remix) –> Johnny Kemp ¤ Just Got Paid (Friday Night) –> DJ Mike Czech ¤ Passin’ Me High & Dry –> Pharcyde ¤ Passin’ Me By –> House Of Pain ¤ Jump Around –> Paperboy ¤ Ditty –> Q-Tip ¤ Vivrant Thing –> Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam ¤ Lost In Emotion –> James Brown ¤ Get Up (I Feel Like Being A Sex Machine) –> the Roots feat. Cody Chestnutt ¤ The Seed 2.0 –> Method Man & Redman ¤ Da Rockwilder –> Beasties ¤ Paul Revere –> Soundhog ¤ (Are You Gonna Be My) Dirrty Girrl?* –> Lil’ Wayne ¤ A Milli

And hey, episode 4 of the Front Stoop:

Stoop4

Sweet jehovah, how do I ever sleep?!

ADDENDUM 2:

I would be remiss not to big up my friend Richie, who not only is the grand major domo at Be Rich And Creamy but fired off a metric shitload of shots over the course of the evening.  You can find them all HERE but just so you can get a taste of greatness, here’s A freebie…

Hot damn, that’s me.

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I Announce Myself As The Fifth Horseman, Social Butterfly

Granted, the name probably needs a little work.

= = = = = = =

My lifestyle determines my deathstyle.

Metallica, Frantic

Earlier today–and I mean ridiculously early, like quarter to six–I was forcing my eye to stay open.

I was afraid if it closed, I was never going to wake up again.

I could feel my body shutting down to the point where I was quivering a bit.  I’m surprised it didn’t smell like smoke, because I put it through a fire it’d take three episodes of Rescue Me to put out.  In a perfect storm rivaling the glory days of the beginning of the decade, I ran around up and down the town every single night last week.  It’s amazing; losing the job was supposed to free me, and it did.  However, as Toby Keith will tell you, freedom comes with a price.  Sometimes your social calendar goes from sonambulant to typhoon in a hearbeat.  And whereas I suppose I could’ve exercised moderation, the freedom also given me a kick-out-the-jams-now-motherfucker mentality.

I hoped once my eye closed, it’d open again.

A week flipped through my eyes and I had to make sure it was mine…

MONDAY

I think my new anti-drug is the near-monthly jiggy jam masquerading as social networking known as a Tweetup.  Now, for those of you who are living in the Dark Ages of 2007, a Tweetup is just a collective of Twitter users in the same area who get together and meet.  Life During Realtime, as a brilliant man once said.

So I went to a fine place in Pacific Beach that was celebrating their 2-year anniversary later in the week,  Firehouse.  I had always meant to go but hadn’t.  With Sierra Nevada being $3, I was glad I did.  Short-term.

Fun was to be had.

I had it.

I should also note that shirt alone lead me to five different conversations.  The hippies at Urban Outfitters finally got one right.  Plus, my one-off Jenga joke on my sticker lead to a new bio which I have to this day.

(that may be my favorite picture of the year to date)

Perhaps I drank too much.  Perhaps I freaked out due to animal activity.   Thank god I never called any podcasts.  Let alone five times.

…wait, what?

TUESDAY:

Realized very quickly that I had called the Dah Theory five times in succession over the course of the night.  I stand by this.  It’s good to have somebody to call when you’re drunk when you can’t ruin anything.

Got a smidge of writing done, but was more productive taking a couple mile walk (that’s right!  I’m healthy!) before doing the charioke.  I actually got to do 4 songs in one show for the first time in forever–proudest of all of the Van Halen performance–and got to do a fun pictograph for my last song in two crudely drawn things.

Checked my following #s on the Twit, went to bed…

WEDNESDAY:

Got a bit more writing done, then knocked out the episode seen in the previous post.  Thought about going to my new favorite spot downtown but didn’t (!#1) and stayed home and got some new stuff and worked on things I might want to play for the show Friday.  Death Of Autotune is growing on me, but I couldn’t feel a place to play it this weekend.

Anyway, if you follow www.ustream.tv/djprofessorcc, you can catch the show every Wednesday at 4:20 Pacific.  Holla back.

THURSDAY:

Did live band karaoke in the evening after sleeping away the day and hitting a wall writing-wise in the afternoon.  A necessary bounce-back, made better by the fine guys in the band shouting me out.  Even if I did spill my vodka.  The drummer (per my request) doing the one-armed drumming for Pour Some Sugar On Me might be the World Heavyweight Champion of Rosser Related Awesome at least through this weekend.  It should be noted that the Firehouse’s 2nd birthday party was so close I passed by it and the ludicrously long line on the way back home.  I thought about it for a second, but Hal Jordan!  Some fucking willpower!  Yes!  ! (#2)

FRIDAY:

Bought a pair of awesome new DCs for $20!  Seriously, you think it’s easy trying to get decent cheap shoes at a size 12?  Ask Kristie Alley how she does it.  Then, of course, because 3 days was too long, I went to another Tweetup, this one a Twineup.  However, since I had decks to wreck and checks to get, I could only stay just long enough to sample wine and sliders.  Just enough to get in trouble.  The way I likes it.

Trying to get back on the track of full-on show reviews, but I think it’s a sign of growing confidence that I just go out and get it done.  Plus, it wasn’t exactly moving the page views.  Did the full four hours solo, which is an awesome way to ensure that you will pass out the moment you hit the pillow.

SATURDAY:

When possible, I like to relax pre-show Saturdays.  To the ignorant layman, this looks a lot like being in the fetal position and intermittenly napping for hours on end while listening to music.   Then again, you would be an ignorant layman.

Coincidentally enough, the phone calls–all 5–ended up on episode 52 of the Dah Theory. I only remembered 2 of them, and were this my senior year of high school, my quote would probably be Drunk at Denny’s at quarter to 11 on a Monday night.  I think I’ve hit a new low. In addition, I added a possible running segment for their show and may’ve invented the slang term “straight up baby seal.”  Honestly, at this point, I should just rename myself BASF.

Show went awesome, and we were able to broadcast streaming live.  I think the audio’s got better days ahead, but it was fun to do.  As usual, it picked up later than your average, and we were able to get a bachelorette party moving.  We shut down way late, but it was totally worth it.

Here is the part of the show where I pretend I wasn’t screaming like a madman at the top of my lungs a few minutes after the wrap trying to persuade a friend from backpedaling.  I meant well, but per usual, I get a vague feeling I might’ve been going over the top.  Then I got hung up on and pretty much collapsed in on myself like a dying star.  As the alarm clock read 4:09, I realized only one thing could save me now.

SUNDAY

Few things can get me out of bed early, but $1 mimosas are one of them.  I’d set up a walk through for the OBSCENELY AWESOME BRUNCHUP IN TWO SUNDAYS *cough* but I had a 10th-hour cancellation.

Clearly, I should’ve cancelled.

Then I went fuck that.

Cut to a couple of hours, some Dah Theory phone calls, and eight mimosas later, I was finally able to make it to the Hard Rock’s Intervention pool party.  This time, everything went as it should (read: Poppa don’t pay cover) and my friend & I were able to bring a couple friends and make new ones.  I gleefully thought of everyone everywhere who assumed that the life of a San Diegan playboy consisted of flowing drinks, sunshine on your back, 73-degree temperatures, and bikinis as far as the eye could see.  What sort of Xanadu could possibly exist like that?

Oh, right.  Where I am.  So that answers that.

Five Salt Lake Cities and a couple tequila shots, I was waving around my I Spent A Night In Paris, Want To See The Video? shirt overhead, waving it like a helicopter.  (By the way, the official reaction by a Frenchman to that shirt is to completely crack up.  T-shirt hell owns it.)  And let me tell you something with my experience on the other side of the table: when a DJ is seeing a fan react to everything so hard he invites a guy he doesn’t know on stage, you are officially ridicuawesome.  That’s right, I invent words.  Do something.  Shoutout to DJ Vice.

I then went home, and of course, put away half a cornish game hen that had more hot sauce than could’ve possibly been healthy at 10, passed out by 11, was up at 3, and two hours later…was hoping to keep my eye open.

Two hours after I failed at that, I woke up unhungover.

So it’s time to run after this week, pin its arms behind its back, and have my way with it.

What’ve YOU been up to, huh?

Pitbull & Lil’ Jon ¤ Krazy

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Stupid Bitch, I’m Internet Famous

Remind me on Monday to sum this week up.  This train is going full-bore until the wheels fall off.  And I swear one of you might’ve prompted CC about Leno.

Anyhow, episode 3.

http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/1636891

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The Idea Is To Be Everywhere. Like Jesus. Or Twitter.

http://www.ustream.tv/recorded/1569454

Watch, enjoy, and see it live Wednesdays at 1620 PST.

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KOSC: You’re Still Here?

VIDEO

Finally tonight, as promised, a Special Comment about Mr. Cheney’s speech. Neurotic. Paranoid. False to fact and false to reason. Forever self-rationalizing. His inner rage at his own impotence and failure dripping from every word and as irrational, as separated from the real world, as dishonest, as insane, as any terrorist.

The former vice president has today humiliated himself beyond redemption.
The delusional claims he has made this day could be proved by documentation and first-hand testimony to be the literal truth, and still he himself would be wrong, because the America he sought to impose upon the world and upon its own citizens, the dark hateful place of Dick Cheney’s own soul, the place he to this hour defends and to this day prefers, is a repudiation of all that our ancestors, all that for which our brave troops of 200 years ago and two minutes ago, have sacrificed and fought.

I do have to congratulate you, Sir. No man living or dead could have passed the buck more often than you did in 35 minutes this morning. It’s not your fault we water-boarded people, you said. It isn’t torture, you said, even though it is based on 111 years of American military prosecutions. It was in the Constitution that you could do it, even if our laws told you, you could not. It was in the language of the 2001 military authorization you force-fed the Congress that you could do it, even if our international treaties told you, you could not.

It produced invaluable information, you said, even though the first-hand witnesses, the interrogators of these beasts, said the information preceded the torture and ended when it began. It was authorized, you said, by careful legal opinion, even though the legal opinions were dictated by you and your cronies, and, oh by the way, the torture began before the legal opinions were even written. It was authorized, you said, and you imply even if it really wasn’t, it was done to “only detainees of the highest intelligence value.”

It was more necessary, you said, because of the revelation of another program by the real villains, the New York Times, even though that revelation was possible because the program was detailed on the front page of the website of a defense department sub-contractor. It was all the fault of your predecessors, you said, who tried to treat terror as a “law enforcement problem,” before you came to office and rode to the rescue… after you totally ignored terrorism for the first 20 percent of your first term and the worst attack on this nation in its history unfolded on your  watch.

“9/11 caused everyone to take a serious second look at threats that had been gathering for awhile,” you said today, “and enemies whose plans were getting bolder and more sophisticated.” Gee, thanks for being motivated, by the deaths of nearly 3,000 Americans, to go so far as to “take a serious second look.” And thank you, Sir, for admitting, obviously inadvertently, that you did not take a serious first look in the seven months and 23 days between your inauguration and 9/11.

For that attack, Sir, you are culpable, morally, ethically. At best you were guilty of malfeasance and eternally-lasting stupidity. At worst, Sir, in the deaths of 9/11, you are negligent. The circular logic, and the self-righteous sophistry, falls from a copy of Mr. Cheney’s speech like bugs from a book on a moldy shelf. He still believes in “dictators like Saddam Hussein with known ties to Mideast terrorists.” He still assumes everyone we captured is guilty without charge or trial, but that to prosecute law-breaking by government officials is “to have an incoming administration criminalize the policy decisions of its predecessors.”

And most sleazy of all, while calling the CIA torturers “honorable,” he insists the grunts at Abu Ghraib were “a few sadistic prison guards (who) abused inmates in violation of American law, military regulations, and simple decency” even though — and maybe he doesn’t know we know this — even though there is documentary proof that those guards were acting on orders originating in the office of Secretary of Defense Rumsfeld.

It is, in short, madness.Madness, Sir. Mr. Cheney, your speech was almost entirely about you. There are only five or six other people even mentioned, and only two quoted at any length. And why would you have quoted, as you did, the man who said this. “I know that this program saved lives. I know we’ve disrupted plots. I know this program alone is worth more than the FBI, the Central Intelligence Agency, and the National Security Agency put together have been able to tell us.”

As you know, Sir, you are quoting former CIA Director George Tenet. That would be the George Tenet who told Congress, on February 11th, 2003, quote: “Iraq is harboring senior members of a terrorist network led by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, a close associate of al-Qaida.” Mr. Tenet then went into elaborate detail about the Iraq/al-Qaida connection. None of it was true.
This is your source. As he was your boss’s source.

“George, how confident are you?” President Bush asked Tenet about Saddam Hussein’s Weapons of Mass Destruction, just before the Iraq war, according to Bob Woodward’s book “Plan Of Attack.” “Don’t worry,” Tenet answered. “It’s a slam-dunk.” That is your independent authority on how well torture worked. Next time you see him, Mr. Cheney, you might as well ask Mr. Tenet if he thinks he is Napoleon. I don’t want to know who you think you are:
“…those are the basic facts on enhanced interrogations,” you concluded. “And to call this a program of torture is to libel the dedicated professionals who saved American lives, and to cast terrorists and murderers as innocent victims.”

You saved no one, Sir. If the classified documents you seek released really did detail plots other than those manufactured by drowning men in order to get it to stop, or if they truly did note plans beyond the laughable ones you and President Bush already revealed — hijackers without passports targeting a building whose name Mr. Bush couldn’t remember, clowns who thought they could destroy airports by dropping matches in fuel pipelines 30 miles away, men who planned to attack a military base dressed as Pizza delivery boys forgetting that every man there was armed, and today: the four would-be Synagogue bombers, one of whom turns out to keep bottles of urine in his apartment, and to be on schizophrenia medicine.

If those documents contained anything of value… you would have leaked them already! As you leaked those revenge fantasies of the Library Tower and the JFK Bomber, and the Fort Dix Six. “When they (terrorists) see the American government caught up in arguments about interrogations, or whether foreign terrorists have constitutional rights, they don’t stand back in awe of our legal system and wonder whether they had misjudged us all along. “Instead the terrorists see just what they were hoping for — our unity gone, our resolve shaken, our leaders distracted. In short, they see weakness and opportunity.”

The weakness the terrorists see, Sir, is the weakness of blind rage replacing essential cold logic.The weakness the terrorists see, Sir, is the weakness of judgment suspended, in favor of self-fulfilling prophecy. The weakness the terrorists see, Sir, is the weakness of moral force supplanted by violence and revenge fantasies. The weakness the terrorists see, Sir, is the weakness of Dick Cheney. And yet, still, ceaselessly, indefatigably, you moralize and lie to us.

“I might add,” someone said today, “that people who consistently distort the truth in this way are in no position to lecture anyone about ‘values.’” Very apt. The quote is from your speech. Your speech, which was at essence, about your fantasy that you and Mr. Bush were not negligent. About your pig-headed certainty first that these attacks were impossible, then that they were a good excuse for a war you had already planned in Iraq, and finally that they were to be imminently repeated and only you knew whence the next threat would next come.

You saved no one, Mr. Cheney. All you did was help kill Americans. You were negligent before 9/11. Your response to your complicity by omission on 9/11, was panic, and shame, and insanity, and lying this country into a war that did nothing but kill 4,299 more of us. We will take no further instruction from you, Sir. Let me again quote Oliver Cromwell to you, Mr. Cheney: You have sat too long for any good you have been doing lately… Depart, I say; and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go!

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For Those Of You Wondering Where I Am

This is for everybody, but especially Rhian.  And Poseidon.

IOAB

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Into The Great Wide Open

 

FRIDAY

Public Enemy, “Shut ‘Em Down (Pete Rock mix)” ¤ Keith Sweat, “I Want Her” ¤ A Tribe Called Quest, “Can I Kick It?” ¤ Digital Underground, “Freaks Of The Industry” ¤ Cheap Trick, “I Want You To Want Me” ¤ Pharrell feat. Jay-Z, “Frontin’” ¤ the Game feat. Kanye West, “Wouldn’t Get Far” ¤ Mos Def, “Ms. Fat Booty” ¤ Marvin Gaye, “Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler)” ¤ Ohio Players, “Fire” ¤ the Isley Brothers, “It’s Your Thing” ¤ Eric B. & Rakim, “I Know You Got Soul” ¤ Hall & Oates, “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)” ¤ Fissunix, “Sweet Apologize”*

Lauryn Hill, “Doo Wop (That Thing)” ¤ Ahmad, “Back In The Day” ¤ Colatron & DJ Brother Darkness, “Brooklyn Sweet Freakphony”*, Club Nouveau, “Lean On Me” ¤ Junior Senior, “Take My Time”, Lupe Fiasco, Kanye West & Pharrell (CRS), “Us Placers” ¤ Fine Young Cannibals, “She Drives Me Crazy”, Far, “Pony”, Soul II Real, “Back To Life”, James Brown, “Get Up (I Feel Like Being A Sex Machine)”, Spencer Davis Group, “Gimme Some Lovin’” ¤ N.W.A., “Express Yourself” ¤ the Pet Shop Boys, “West End Girls” ¤ Howard Jones, “Things Can Only Get Better” ¤ Outkast, “Rosa Parks” ¤ Red Hot Chili Peppers, “Love Rollercoaster” ¤ Nice & Smooth, “Sometimes I Rhyme Slow” ¤ Party Ben, “Poker Face (Just What I Needed)” 

My mentor loves Gordon Ramsey, and it shows; used an iPod & a turntable while he had two in his car.  So the flow was kind of choppy.  Adding to the choppiness was the fact it was his old school Pod and not mine, so I was literally floating around looking for stuff to play.  But, made the most out of the learning experience (learning experience being slang for I’d really rather not do things this way unless I absolutely had to, but since nobody died while I did it, if there was no other recourse, I would absolutely do it again)…was obviously going to play all the Pete Rock I could after seeing him destroy a three-hour set I’m still recovering from…got props from a regular, who recognized the hook from ATCQ in its source material…getting better at the midshow adjustment; reeled off that late trifecta soul block pretty much on request to switch it up…CC kinda depressed we didn’t have anybody early, but it’s a place known for hockey playoffs (of which there weren’t any), and it was early, as I pointed out…

Hi, Andy!…Junior Senior and CRS went over pretty well and may’ve earned their way into the Friday night rotation…something about Friday nights is drawing drunk old black men.  Sigh.  At least this one tipped well…FINALLY some N.W.A…somebody–a guy and fellow DJ, no less–asked for Lady Gaga, and for the umpeenth time I thanked non-God for Party Ben…

SATURDAY

Sorry, there isn’t going to be a big grandiose write-up here.

This is because this is a momentous career-defining moment, and it didn’t exactly hack out per usual.  Even though I took 4 pages of shorthand notes on it. 

It was my first solo all-nighter.

At 6 I was in the fetal position on my bed wondering if I could send someone in blackface in my place.

By 8 I’d completed my first no-fuck-ups and done in under 20 minutes setup.

And by 1 I felt like less a man than a God.

It was a good day to be proud, and I even got paid.  Of course, given some retrospect I find it astounding I didn’t play any Michael Jackson, New Kids On The Block, Talking Heads, or Steve Winwood, but if I can get a crowd moving to Richard Marx, Howard Jones (well, not that surprising)a and Rockwell, well then, I must be doing something right, yeah?

Big highlights:

  • going from Aerosmith’s “Dream On” to “Walk This Way”, cutting the latter into the breaks of the former and getting a huge reaction when WTW started proper
  • the Vapors to Wang Chung transition, which nobody else noticed but fuck it, I pulled it off on the fly
  • back to back RICK JAMES, BITCH~!
  • the guy who came back after enjoying himself Friday and became one of my favorites by asking for the Paid In Full 7 minutes remix
  • declaring to everybody during the lead-in for the extended version of “Careless Whisper” that “Fuck it, I’m a straight black man and I fucking love George Michael!” and everybody at the bar cheering
  • the huge cheer for Ring Of Fire
  • the girls who started moving and grooving as I kicked it into gear ’round midnight with Faith, Hoochie Mama, Jungle Love, and a Cyndi Lauper/Flo Rida mash
  • and just the fact I got it done

Well, nothing more can be said.  I felt awesome for about an hour.  

But now I’m back to putting in work.

It’s like I’m following my dream or something.

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