Death is in the air lately, with the life of an “allustrious” rapper, post-mortem plans of a retired HOF football player, and the career of a celebrated actor each adding to the rancid stench in their own unique ways:
“Oh yeah, Mobb Deep: you wanna fuck with us? You little young-ass muthafuckas. Don’t one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something? You’re fuckin with me, nigga you fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart attack” -Tupac, Hit em Up (read at Prodigy’s eulogy)
Sob Deep – Over twenty years later, Tupac’s prophecy has come true. Prodigy is no more, and I don’t mean that weirdo techno group who made “Firestarter.” One half of the legendary group Mobb Deep has perished, leaving just Mobb. Or Deep. Either way, Prodigy’s sickle cell anemia was exacerbated by performing in 110 degree heat while on tour in Vegas, and he promptly complained the “Temperature’s Rising” until it felt like “Hell on Earth” before requesting to “Get Away” in an ambulance. Unfortunately it was “Survival of the Fittest”, and he “Shook Ones Part II”—I mean died.
Besides Mobb Deep, the fateful tour included KRS-One, Ghostface Killah, Onyx, and Ice T. It was truly a lineup to die for.
Mind Over Fatter or Skip to my Goo – Neuroscientists everywhere weren’t exactly jumping for joy when obnoxious rotund behemoth Warren Sapp announced his plans to donate his brain to science after his death, in a recent issue of “Morbid Irrelevance” magazine. Sapp’s headstrong attitude about the donation is ostensibly his desire to either study the “skipping center” area of the brain responsible for his many fines, or for the scientists to play Three-card Monte with it like they do with Stegosaurus’ and other walnut-sized brains.
There Will Be Dud or Day’s Gone Bye – Hold on to your berets folks, because some actor asshole has decided to no longer play dress-up and pretend for a living. How earth-shattering. In a completely unimportant story, reclusive method-acting nutball Daniel Day Lewis has dramatically announced his retirement from the big screen. Of course, simply not acting any more would accomplish the exact same thing, but without the overly self-important announcement, what’s the point? Like, what did this nitwit Brit expect? People to weep? Or beg him to stay? No, no, we need you to pretend to be more things, oh great one. In the words of fellow entertainer Old Dirty Bastard, “Nigga please.” That self-obsessed limey can piss off. Lewis is a fine actor no doubt, but if he quit making movies nobody would even notice. He only makes like two a decade anyway. Besides, why retire? Just because you quit acting doesn’t mean you can’t keep making movies. Just ask DeNiro.