Angel Watches

To commemorate the groundbreaking mid 90s anime series Neon Genises Evangelion, G Shock by Casio have released these two beautiful time pieces. The watches were made in the same colorways as the Eva Unit 01 suit, and the shows female protagonist Rei Ayanami's "plug suit." If there was ever a time to show that you really loved me, you would somehow track down these rare beauties, slide them on either wrist, and ask for my hand in marriage.













I'm probably gonna have to download and watch this damn show too now. Wish I wasn't taking so long on finishing up Gundam Wing. Or maybe G Shock should make some Gundam watches too.

Bawse

Finally a website that counts how many times Rick Ross says "bawse", how many cocaine references he's made, how many cars he's claimed to have driven, plus a lot more. Teflon Don is pretty good in my opinion, so was Deeper Than Rap, but you can't deny that he talks a pretty ridiculous game. It even tallies how many mobster references he makes. Awesome.


Bawseology

Flick, Push

Jacked this from the Kanye website, but that doesn't make it any less cool right? Combines my desire for skating and love for setting things on fire into a fun little number. Lando, the time to shred is nigh.

The summer camp that I work for went on a swimming pool outing yesterday and I was fortunate enough to be one of the water chaperons that makes sure none of the kids are fighting or drowning in the pool. It was one of the best experiences I've had in Philadelphia in the year and a half I've been here. I was payed, rather handsomely, to be in a pool with 1st through 6th graders, to make sure they were being safe while having a fun time. Both were executed quite successfully. For about 5 to 6 hours, with one short lunch break in between, I was given the opportunity to throw, wrestle, carry, splash, dunk, spin, flip, chase, escape, and chill with some of the most lovely, endearing, heart breakingly beautiful children in the world. The kind of children who face tougher odds then snow balls in July but somehow muster the courage and strength to be happy and playful almost all of the time.
Since many of the kids have never had the opportunity to take swimming lessons, they all stayed in the shallow end, impressing each other with how long they can keep their heads underwater, and what cool tricks they can do off the side of the pool. But when they have a 25 year old second grader as a chaperon/jungle gym, opportunities for more fun arose. For the most courageous youngsters, I helped them do flips off of my knee. For those who couldn't or didn't want to do flips I would just throw them a few feet to the side, to the point where I had a line of kids waiting their turns to be tossed aside with an assembly line like efficiency. The younger kids that didn't want to be thrown just appreciated being pulled around the pool like two long trains from each of my arms. At one point I had a trail of kids 6 deep on each arm, meandering through the pool like multi cultured water snakes.
While every student seemed to be enjoying themselves on the Mr. Tyler water ride, it became apparent after a rather short amount of time which students were more dependent on adult affection then others. Out of the 20 to 30 kids that would come and go for a toss to the side or a water ride or quick wrestle, there were about 6 or 7 of them that were with me almost the entire day. They all have their own unique, and heart rending stories, but each one of their histories has led them to the same point of needing extra attention from either an adult or male father figure. At one point, while crawling around like alligators in the shallow end with a second grade girl named Aneesah, she stopped me and looked directly into my eyes with her own, beautiful amber eyes and asked "Mr. Tyler, do you know how to stop your heart from hurting when your dad dies?"
There might be people out there that are equipped with the know-how to deal with a situation such as this one. Unfortunately I am not one of those people. My initial reaction was to just start crying for her right there on the spot. With hesitation I asked her how her daddy died, and she said he had a heart attack. What's worse about this situation is that her mother had been murdered about two years ago and she was now living with her grandmother.
I told her I didn't know how to make her heart stop hurting, and that it might hurt for a long time, but she should try and remember all the fun things she did with him while he was here, and in the mean time, we should keep crawling around like alligators and scare people that came after us. Later on in the day she asked me if I would be her daddy, or her uncle, to which I replied, "I can't be your daddy or your uncle, but I can be your Mr. Tyler." She seemed disappointed that I could not fill the void in her heart, but at the same time content that she had a Mr. Tyler to call her own.
The moment came and passed in seconds, and she never broke a stride or a tear throughout the whole day. It just goes to show the absolute resiliency of kids, even when odds are stacked against them. For me it was a lesson in humility, who, a day earlier, had dedicated a whole blog post to how pissed off I was about a few overdraft charges. I believe selfish is the word for that.
Needless to say there will be no more posts on this blog about my minor instances as a human being, because, in the grand scheme of things, even though I like to make myself out to be a martyr that has struggled for his position, I have been relatively lucky with the hand of cards I've been dealt. I will never forget that moment for as long as my memory serves me, nor do I want to. It was a poignant reminder to not take for granted anything, and cherish everything in this beautiful struggle we call life. Thank you Aneesah for teaching me something that 25 years of selfish living could not.

Hells Fargo

How is it that when you put a check into your bank account it takes about 4 days to process but when you make a purchase with that same bank account a day or two later that shit is on there Immediately? Two overdraft fees just sucked half of my hard earned pay check and it wasn't even technically an overdraft since I had the fucking money.
How is it that life tends to work in the same way? When you take one step forward, it is a long, drawn out process that doesn't even seem that gratifying in the long run, but when you slip up or make a mistake, or something bad happens to you outside of your control it is a swift, ruthless kick to the groin that effects you immediately.
How is it that bad things suck way more then how awesome good things are? For example, let us say that getting a paycheck is worth 140 points in the positive direction. But then, getting an overdraft fee that is worth about half of that paycheck is 140 points in the negative direction. In mathematical jargon the equation would look like this.

1/2 sucky thing > awesome thing
or
-140 > 140

What the hell universe do we live in where negative amounts are greater then positive amounts?

How I got Over

I still feel like Black Thought is one of the top 5 mc's alive, and even though he is part of the critically acclaimed, Legendary Roots Crew he is still overlooked. Here's the visuals for the first single from their latest album, How I Got Over, another classic in my opinion.

What I've been bumpin lately.

It's been a warm summer, environmentally as well as musically. Super excited for whats coming out soon, but these have been keeping me company in the meantime.


Curren$y - Pilot Talk


Gorillaz - Plastic Beach



Cults - 7"


Big Boi - Sir Lucious Leftfoot The Son of Chico Dusty


M.I.A. - Maya


Sleigh Bells - Treats

Honorable mentions: Any leak J. Cole has put out in the last year, Chip Tha Ripper - Back to Cleveland (still bumping strong), Jay Electronica (every song), Cool Kids - Tacklebox, Rick Ross - Teflon Don, Wiz Khalifa - Kush and Orange Juice, Talib Kweli and Hi Tek - Revolutions Per Minute, Eminem - Recovery, Childish Gambino - Culdesac

Into the jaws of the lord of death

Ill shit.

it doesn't snow where you're going

As I sit at my dust filled computer desk, rolly chair squeaking, fans blazing, heat paralyzing, I realize something's got to give. The laptop screen is burning holes in my face as the sun attempts to do the same on the back of my neck. My dog is panting like he just ran a marathon and my sweat-drenched underwear is attempting to do things only reserved for toilet paper. Cold showers keep the body temperatures just under boiling for about as long as it takes to dry off, and then sweat appears where water once was. With just the thought of exerting even a minuscule amount of energy I get tired. But not the good kind of tired where you fall asleep as soon as your face hits the pillow. No, that doesn't exist in this environment. This is the kind of tired where you lay in bed for hours on end, not trying to move or touch anything for fear you might drown in your own sweat. The other side of the pillow is just as hot as the original, the fans feel like someone is breathing on you after drinking a gallon of hot tea, and you're pretty sure if its not your own sweat you drown in, it will be all the moisture in the air that stops you from breathing. I could practice my cannonballs in mid-air the humidity is so strong.
As much as I wish I could stop complaining, there is an equal amount of nothing I can do about it. Moving to a different room requires too much effort, and even if it didn't it would be the equivalent of jumping from one furnace to another. My fans might as well be keeping hot air balloons afloat, and being naked is as appealing as wearing clothes. It just depends on what I feel like sticking to. Some days I don't even bother wearing deodorant, I know its just gonna end up running down my side, meet the sweat streaks down my spine, and mix in the Mississippi River delta that is my boxer briefs. A quick glance at the forecast only reminds me that I've got another 7 days of this. And that was 14 days ago. The way I feel about Philadelphia right now is probably about the same way sinners feel when they are in hell. I know I chose this path, even deserve it, and I'm sure I can look down the time line of my life and pinpoint a few, or many episodes where punishment was necessary, but this just seems a tad gratuitous. I never thought I would live to see the day where I would trade a pair of shorts and NBA jersey for some snow pants and a winter jacket, but I would willingly give up either for the chance to fall in a winter fishing hole in the wilds of Saskatchewan during a paralyzing snowstorm right now. I'm just sayin.

Puddle Jumpers

Picking our targets
We hop from one body to the next
Parts exploding under our feet
It fills our shoes with
Pieces of grey matter and guts
Gets in our eyes nose ears mouth
Blood flows freely in the street
And hangs onto our clothes
Until we are saturated with
The remains of what once was
A rainy day
Massacre

Beach Bumming

A big thank you goes out to the Leahys for allowing me to mooch their food and booze, and fantastic beach spot. I've been a beach bum at heart, but only needed an avenue to express it. A special thank you goes to Eileen Leahy for indulging my love for talking about myself, and motivating me to pick up the pen once again and begin writing for the first time in about 5 years. I can only hope my talents can exceed your expectations. Hopefully see you all again this weekend.

Plastic Beach

Greatest 15 minutes I have ever spent. Will probably spend at least another 45 on it before the week's end.