Yeah, well, I know what Run DMC were talking about now… I have karaoked this track. It was awesome (I think? haha! Sandy was there?), cause I know all the words. A mate and I used to crank it on the way to the pool hall. There is some mad scratching, plus it has a sick beat with Run DMC rapping at their finest. So many nights of pool… Last verse is my favourite:
Dinner. You ate it. There is none left
It was salty, with butter and it was def
You proceeded to eat it, cos you was in the mood
But homes you did not read it was a can of dog food!
You be illin’
I often rant about the stupidity of the world on this blog. Sometimes I realise that I am of this dark world I describe and I do equally silly things. I wonder… how do people reconcile their own stupidities?
For me the first stage is a kind of shock or, what amounts to the same thing, a realisation. Everything is going hunky-dorey and then… Dog food! Or maybe — I made a dog’s breakfast of that situation! Totally! shit…
Sometimes it is not so happy (let’s say, ‘not so funny’ because it is never really ‘happy’), like when I have crashed cars. That isn’t funny. Well it was to my big brother. I am sure I still owe some money to some local government or something. Plus it is dangerous. But other times situations can be equally as dangerous and you don’t quite realise it. Not physically dangerous, but in danger of making an ass of yourself. That is fine for me (I love karaoke!), but I really do not like making others feel uncomfortable (except with karaoke! haha!).
I guess when you be illin’ is when the Other comes home to roost. On your head. Like a cock-o-doodle-do. I often become my own Judge Dredd. Judge, jury and blog posterer. Are apologies enough? Sometimes. Not for policepeople though! ha! And sometimes they aren’t enough for yourself either.
But sometimes it works out alright, too! hmmm…
Yeah… but at the moment? I be illin’