It/That (the one who "kicks it like Bruce Lee from Chinese Connection")

Been there? While the service I provide to society is a much needed one, office/desk jobs suck. Also, I don't trust anyone who wears suit...which I don't. If I want to look official, its a pair of slacks, and nice collared shirt,  topped off with a bolo tie...my uniform.

 

Everything! Didn't get the BauHaus thing in the early 80s, but can really appreciate them now. Wish I had gotten into them as my teenage self, there's a lot of wisdom there. Been struggling with my 16 year old Granddaughter who doesn't listen to a god damn thing I tell her about life. So much for wisdom.

Love this picture of this sign..."Agritourism"...taken 14 years ago at the pumpkin patch :) Two things that are for sure going to happen to you in this life, injury and death...it may as well be at the pumpkin patch. Life is like a slow long term crucifixion, pain, suffering and eventual death. And for what?

One of my favorite PE tunes...it's got everything...Flavor Flav banter intro...unmatched flow from Chuck D...super silly fresh DJ action from Terminator X!

Yo Chuck, bust a move man

I was on my way up here to the studio, ya know what I'm sayin'

And this brother stop me and aks me

"Yo wassup with that brother Chuckie D, he swear he nice"

I said, "Yo the brother don't swear he nice

He knows he's nice, ya know what I'm sayin' "

So Chuck, we got a feelin'

You turn him into a Public Enemy man

Now remember that line you was kickin' to me

On the way out to L.A., out in Queens

While we was in the car on our way to the Shot

Well, yo right now kick the bass for them brothers

And let them know, what goes on, what goes on

Well, I'm all in, put it up on the board

Another rapper shot down from the mouth that roared

1, 2, 3 down for the count

The result of my lyrics, oh yes, no doubt

Cold rock rap, 49er supreme

Is what I choose and I use, I never lose to a team

'Cause I can can go solo, like a Tyson bolo

Make the fly girls wanna have my photo

Run in their room, hang it on the wall

In remembrance that I rocked them all

Suckers, ducks, ho, hum MC's

You can't rock the kid, so go cut the cheese

Take this application of rhymes like these

My rap's red hot, 110 degrees

So don't start bassin' I'll start placin'

Bets on that you'll be disgracin'

You and your mind from a beatin' from my rhymes

A time for a crime that I can't find

I'll show you my gun, my Uzi weighs a ton

Because I'm Public Enemy number one

One, one, one

One, one, one, one

You got no rap, but you want to battle

It's like havin' a boat, but you got no paddle

'Cause I never pause, I say it because

I don't break in stores, but I break all laws

Written while sittin', all fittin' not bitten

Givin' me the juice that your not gettin'

I'm not a law obeyer, so you can tell your mayor

I'm a nonstop, rhythm rock, poetry sayer

I'm the rhyme player, the ozone layer

A battle what? Here's a Bible start your prayer

This word to the wise is justified

If they ask you what happened, just admit you lied

You just got caught a, for going out of order

And now you're servin' football teams their water

You messed with the master, word to Chuck

And I'll wax cold tax, made sure you got dunked

You just got dissed, all but dismissed

Sucker duck MC's, you get me pissed

It's no fun, being on the run

Because they got me, Public Enemy number one

One, one, one

One, one, one

Don't you know, don't you know

I got a posse of a force to back me up

Watch out, we got never the match

Ambush attack on my back, double teamin', get creamed

So we have us so you're okay?

Wanna hear it again

We got a force, enemy down

The L.I. circuit sound

Ain't it Chuckie D, myself and KG

Flavor, DJ Melody

Oh yes, I presume it's the tunes, that make us groom

To make all the ladies swoon

But it's also the words from our direction, a gold boy session

Kickin' like Bruce Lee's Chinese connection

On stereo, never ever mind, no

All wax, yes I'm talkin' about vinyl

They said stop freeze, I got froze up

Because I'm Public Enemy number one

One, one, one

One, one, one

One, one, one

For all you suckers, liars, your cheap amplifiers

Your crossed up wires are always starting fires

You're grown up criers, now here's a pair of pliers

Get a job like your mother, I heard she fixes old dryers

You have no desires, your father fixes tires

You try to sell ya equipment, but you get no buyers

It's you they never hire, you're never on flyers

'Cause you and your crew, is only known as good triers

Known as the poetic political lyrical son

I'm Public Enemy number one

One, one, one

One, one, one

One, one, one

Yeah, that's right Chuck man

That's what you gotta do

You gotta tell them just like that

Ya know what I'm sayin'

'Cause yo man, let me tell you a little somethin' man

These brothers runnin' around, hard headed

Makin' a little jealous, ya know what I'm sayin'

Just like that, ya know, they try to bring you down with 'em

But yo Chuck, you gotta let 'em know who's who in the world of beat

You gotta let 'em know that this is the 80's

And we can get all the ladies

And in the backyard we got a fly Mercedes

And that's the way the story goes

That's just the way the story goes

So let me tell you a little somethin' man

Usually the sunrise is chasing me to work but was running late this morning and caught this shot. Then I got about 5 miles from home and realized I had forgotten my wallet and the keys to my office...fuck! Glad I got the shot.

I'm an asshole...and a lot of other things, but I don't need to be reminded of these obvious character flaws. I'm fucking trying man! Supposedly sometime in 1992, Beck was at Garden Weasel's show with Grimace and Muzza Chunka in Garberville California. It was Grimace's CD release party on Bongload Records, which, at that time, was also Muzza Chunka's and Beck's label. I have no recollection of getting to the show, playing the show, who was at the show and I have no clue how we got home. I do know it was the closest we got to playing outside Humboldt County. I was taking to Ed, our guitarist extraordinaire, and a hell of a human being, and we were jointly wondering why we never made the journey to the Bay Area...at least at the Gilman. It's not that we weren't a decent enough band to play down there. Between work, school, drinking and drugging, we were satisfied with just playing the local gigs and parties...shit we had something going on almost every weekend for two years. Anyway, I dig early Beck and it would have been nice to have met him.

RIP old farm truck, you served me well...

Grout really exploded when I left the band...should've stayed one more year in Humboldt...fuck, all I was doing was digging ditches in San Diego. Play this song fucking loud!

Mr. Pickles sez "sleep well" and if we wake up, we will strive to have a good day :)