Delayed

Alright, let's be straight, it's been awhile since I've checked in with the blog and put thoughts from fingers to key. So let's get it on.

First off, lyric of the day for today is by request from Curtis Brown. CuBro shocked the world by playing a CD at his new house the other day that was the blackest I've ever seen him. Bob Marley was joined by the likes of The Roots, Mos Def and others. So not only did he burn a hip hop/reggae CD, he made it a pretty darn good one too. Props. (That mean's good job CuBro).

Sometimes at work, I'll strap on my headphones and load up iTunes on my computer and just listen to the urban radio stations provided. It's really the only way I can try and keep remotely in touch with the hip hop world while living in the land of 10 gallon hats and plaid shirts. Worse yet, the only folks around here that think they're hip hop are so ridiculously far from it, that you'd almost rather chill with Waylon Jennings and Kenny Chesney.

Wearing a cheap Exco "05" jersey and blasting 50 Cent out of your Hyndai, doesn't work. If hip hop wasn't so great in its finest form, I'd almost suggest that we collapse the genre — kinda like we should do to the NHL right now — and build it back up to lose ourselves of all the studio gangsters that infect the music.

Anyway, I've been on that rant before.

Ahh, just for the heck of it, let's do a list of five. As always, the completely random barometer of what is and what isn't.

1. Glen Hnatiuk getting love at the John Deere Classic.
2. Caribana
3. MLB.com Beat the Streak
4. This guy.
5. Cabbage leaves. With temps pushing over 40 degrees C in Manitoba, it's an idea that I'm no longer just entertaining. Expect to see me with foliage on my head at some point soon.

Without further adieu, by request, bang your head to this:

Lyric of the Day:
Yes, I am the inescapable, the irresistable,
The unnegotiable, the unchallenged [who dat?]
I am time
I scroll in measurements, control the elements,
I hold the evidence, I tell the story [say what?]
I am time
I know no prejudice, I bare no sentiments
For wealth or settlement, I move forward [who you?]
I am time
You can't recover me, conceal or smuggle me,
Retreat or run from me, crawl up or under me,
You can't do much for me besides serve
Me well and have good dividends returned to you
Or attempt to kill me off and have me murder you
Many have wasted me but now they are facing me,
Treated me unfaithfully and now endure me painfully
Plaintively, I wait to see what history will shape to be,
Who's hearts will never die inside the sake of me
Angel's scribe the page for me,
Keep a full account of all the names for me
And make a special mark for Hurricane who waited patiently.
Mos Def from The Hurricane