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  • » Name: Meka Soul
  • » Location: Los Angeles, CA
  • » Member Since: 04/09/07
  • » Bio: Providing clarity in hip-hop since 1981.
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Endtroducing...


August 10, 2007 | Tags: none

After reading Brillyance’s introductory blog a few weeks ago, it had just occurred to me that I hadn’t done the same. On the flip side, I thought I’d never last this long on the site, what with me always pulling the ranks of your favorite rappers on a daily basis. Pause?

It’s quite surprising, however, that my little piece on this section of the Internets would take off in the manner it has, not to mention giving this fledgling journalism career a somewhat major boost. Humble yet oblivious idiot that I am, I’d never believed that you humps would actually want to read my shit, yet here we are a couple months in, and I have a fan base, of sorts, similar to the local crack pusher in the projects.

I guess that because of this I should give a little insight of myself to the peoples who read this shit. While I don’t have any outrageously hilarious stories the likes of Brill’s - as the ball and chains known as my job and bills have essentially limited my social gatherings to drunken nights at Chili’s or marathon Madden sessions with my cousin, thus being unable to indulge in the finest of human debauchery sometimes - I hope to enthrall the masses nonetheless.

Without further adieu, allow me to introduce... myself.

1) MC Hammer may have introduced me to a life of crime... somewhat. It’s a known fact that the first rap album I ever scored was Please, Hammer, Don’t Hurt ‘Em. What many people don’t know was that I got said album by essentially stealing it. Remember those slips in various music magazines for BMG’s “6 For 1” service, where they’d send you about a half-dozen extra tapes for free if you paid for one? Well, I did that, except that I never paid for them, and I always used a different name each time. The best part was when I used my friend Brian’s name in high school, and when he tried to do it, all he got were a shitload of collections bills. If you’re reading this now Brian, my bad.

2) Hip-hop comes with me everywhere I go... literally. Since 2002, I’ve gotten at least one tattoo on my birthday. Last year was no different, except that now I have a shoulder-to-elbow length mural of the four pillars of hip-hop  - the MC, the DJ, the B-Boy and the Graf Artist – permanently etched on my right arm. The project took two years to complete, including planning, designing and eventually tattooing the entire thing.

3) Pepper spray hurts like a mofo. During one of my many stints as a volunteer, I got the chance to help out at the 2004 Vibe Awards – the same Vibe Awards where one Jimmy James Johnson polished his knuckle game on Dr. Dre’s face, causing that infamous scuffle/stabbing. What most people don’t know is that to disperse the crowd, the police sprayed a mushroom cloud’s worth of Mace into the poorly ventilated, cramped venue, effectively blinding everyone in the vicinity. I think I saw Tony Yayo also spork that guy alongside Young Buck, but I couldn’t be sure. I did manage to score some jeans and sneakers for my work, which was more than what the average slore there got, and I didn’t have to suck a dick to get them. Menopause.

4) I’m not a prick in person. Honest. If you’ve noticed, most of my remarks in the c-boy section appear whenever I feel I’ve been provoked. On the flip side, while I won’t start insulting someone in person for the sake of squaring off against them – being that I’m roughly Allen Iverson’s size and could probably get mollywhopped at the drop of a dime since I haven’t been in (or had to need to be in, mind you) a fight in years – I am liable to talk shit about anything that crosses my vision.

5) New York > California. New York is the birthplace of hip-hop, doesn’t tax anything up to $110, has more free bars, concerts and clubs within a close proximity of each other, immensely deep multi-ethnic cultures and sells Nike Dunks for cheap. Meanwhile, Los Angeles – although I was born in Fresno and raised along the southern section – has a whiny bitch on an underwhelming basketball team, no football squad, a whole shitload of posers and Tommy The Clown. Is it any wonder I’m trying to leave this bitch?

6) Hand game (im)proper. Thanks to numerous park basketball injuries, I have seven fully functional fingers, two slightly irregular ones from sprains, fractures and dislocations and one finger I ethered so badly I have four screws permanently implanted surgically in it. How bad, you ask? Every once in a while the door alarm at some random-ass store will go off because of them.

7) I don’t say the n-word a lot, unless I’m around a bunch of niggas. If you’ve noticed, I usually steer clear from the dreaded n-word in my blogs. I also have the tendency to not say it in general. However, put me around a bunch of people throwing out the word like candy corn on Halloween, and I’m likely to spit it out more than anyone there.

8) You’re never too old for an ass-whooping. When I was 20, I had a girlfriend who happened to be a stripper. One day we decided to... err... swing an episode in my mother’s bed. What I never expected was for her to actually walk in on the damn thing. Excluding the time I had all my wisdom teeth pulled out at once by some old-ass dentist with the shakes, the beatdown my mother gave me was one of the most painful experiences ever.

9) Apparently, I used to look like Tyrese. In my shaved-head college days, I was a volunteer at the 2002 BET Awards, where my responsibilities were, among others, to walk celebrities down the red carpet. In between guiding Benzino and Dave Mays (and wanting to kick them in the stomach the entire time), Bruce Bruce (I’ve never seen a large person sweat that much) and Clipse (who were surprisingly down-to-earth and humble for, you know, former crack dealers), I was treated to a variety of hecklers saying I resembled “that Coca-Cola guy.”

10) I’m a bit of a nerd, save for an impeccable taste in the finest of clearance-rack wears and Nike Dunks. Aside from hip-hop and fresh gear, I have an affinity for graphic novels, John Woo movies, the scientific aesthetics of writing and the storyline of the Max Payne video games. And if I didn’t pursue journalism, I’d be studying to be an English teacher, with the hopes that I can properly teach the future about simple things like grammar and punctuation, seeing has how they’re a little important in life.

11) A.H.L.O.T. hates my guts. Since I’ve been here, my most infamous post remains my diatribe on Lil Wayne (“Lil Wayne = G.O.A.T.”). Amongst the piles of death threats, homophobic rants and name-calling, Ms. Howse delivered the crème de la crème:

Clearly, you don't understand Hip-Hop... This is why it's important for people to travel, gain an education and pick up a book... You are an idiot and as a journalist you should have your pen burned... READ, LISTEN & LEARN... that's part of your job. I swear to Hip-Hop you are the most upsetting writer I've witnessed since Willie Lynch...

To this day that’s the only cut that’s penetrated my armor.

There’s more to add, but if I disclosed that information I’d expect brain surgery in return. Kidding, of course.

***
I guess I should mention that I’ll be a volunteer for the DX booth at this weekend’s Rock The Bells festival. If there’s anybody in that area who’d actually want to be berated in person by me, or any thick-bodied White girl (because I know Black people don't go to this shit) who’d like to have a whole mess of video-“model” babies by me, feel free to stop by.




The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the writer and not necessarily those of HipHopDX.com or Cheri Media Group.

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