The Bottom Of The Ocean

Water Water Everywhere & Not A Drop To Drink

[kanemayfield]

Dr. Mayfields Words Of Wisdom - UK food is awful... prove me wrong.

If you ever really look at traditional UK food you kind of understand why they literally started murdering people for spices. 

Before you accuse me of overreacting click this link right here 👉🏾👉🏾 GROSS

(I’ll wait)

Exactly.... wtf is eel jelly?

That SOUNDS like something a long shoreman would shout to a woman for street harassment purposes and it LOOKS like something you serve to a person you plan on dropping bad news on like...

"Good to see you Nigel... fancy a cuppa... well ive got bad news and worse food... here's some shite pizza dough filled with dogfood that I call "pie"... why yes I did run tap-water on it disrespectfully... yeah... didnt want any natural flavors to give the impression of seasonings so i gave it a proper spritz mate lol... yes its green... haven't the foggiest why.... but im sure its tops...oh btw... your grandma is dead bruv... and you’re out the will. Pack of Mel Gibsons are piping your wife. Pretty rubbish innit"

Oh that 👆🏾?

Yeah... that's porridge.

That unhappy bowl of disrespect is what some unfortunate souls call breakfast and the rest of the world calls gruel. There is no appropriate time of the day for such an abomination. This is Oliver Twist food, bro. That just exemplifies how terrible that little yoot life was... he wanted MORE gruel... word... that's a horrendous upbringing. That's where the word “grueling” comes from. Someone in a dungeon trying to eat this bowl of insults. People who respect you would never even come at you like this in the morning. 

Now think about THIS... if all you know is porridge... which is obviously of the devil... and you meet this new group of peoples.. and homie got a silken pimp robe and matching slippers. Sun has the iced out hair scrunchie and permed eyebrows. Just living wild luxurious. He not even tripping off you. Your whole camp look hongry and unwashed to a man of his discipline... he gotta be judging you....  you know he is....t

This man is rocking some Sweet Daddy Grace lengthy shit... smelling like lavender and using his long coke nail to spear him a spicy dumpling and feed it to a colorfully dressed woman. 

HELL YEAH you gotta pop on him and cause an international incident...

no doubt...he was styling on you crazy. I get it... of course you were embarrassed... he caught you lacking... smelling like the ocean and bad decisions... and he just splish splashing the soy sauce and flinging 5 spice powder like a Trini at j’ouvert. The language barrier is all that was stopping this guy from telling you to eat a dick... you def aint breaking out the old union jack lunch box, and showing him you you brought two for just such an occasion. Not a shred of mouth dignity, b.

AAAAYYOOOOOOOOOOOO.....

Fuck is this..... you call it WHAT.... Bangers and Mash... yeah... that works cause I'm gonna bang this plate off the table and mash up the whole restaurant. 

But this is about seasonings... you think you gonna be able to go home to merry old England after seeing ACTUAL people food?

That shit is an unrespectful dish b.... pardon me for exposing you to this filth beloveds... but UK people eat these... this point gotta get made. This is why the British Empire was so crazy. It makes sense.. they would go home and after 30 min and be like..

“(looks at plate of sausage dong) crikey look at the time.. I gotta go.. more land to discover... I'm out... AYO Barnaby, get the boat my guy... yeah.. this nigga on some balderdash.. FOH.. ”

Imagine you had a hard day laboring... shaving rocks in the quarry or putting shoes on a horse or banging an anvil or whatever British people did before spices... you go home just looking for a little food and comfort and somebody pulls up with a double unseasoned frank for your boca... 

FUCK YEEEAAAH I'm building a boat... and I'm NEVER coming back. This place is BARE wickedness.

How you got castles and roundtables and danger mouse... but still eat gruel and rambunctious franks.... with no seasonings ??? That shit doesn't make any sense. English people had a whole lot of misdirected energy  

Penny-farthing bikes and no basil. Yall wilding.

Just imagine your life is terrible with dong-shaped food all the time... so you get on a big boat, sail further than you think the world goes just to meet you a man chilling in a place where it never snows, women got they yahmean’s out... & he just seasoning a goat-meat panini wild regular like...

"...maaaaan I don't even want this... don't een know why I made it fam... naah i mean I JUST had one... yeah its good.. but I can’t rock with two of em.. AYO.. you hungry bro.. yeah YOU.. super lightskinned from the boat... yall look famished... here hold this down... ".

You gonna start making undignified noises the first time you have seasonings. You know how I know: look at how homey on the right is side-eyeing you. He looking at you like 

“I know this pink dirty boat man ain’t just moan sexually over a panini” 

He judgy... and they got the brocky neckwear. Big homey got the Selassie fingers and the ill breathable garments. And he smiling. Know why? SEASONINGS.... he don't give a fuck about you or your boat. 

“Where you from... oh woooord... they got big free-range titties and truck jewelry over there??... nah... sounds shitty.... what about that panini I gave you.. shit was banging, right? WAIT... banger? Fuck is a banger?.... A WHAT? Nah bro... we got kids out here.. watch your mouth. I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Yeah... they smiling because nobody trying to push a double frank in they face... pause. No Oliver Twist soup anywhere in the vicinity, bro. Just well seasoned food and flourish. Women ain’t gonna have their babylons  untethered for your viewing enjoyments if you engage in such sinful snacks.

Man’s just living his life and doing fun shit with yams, billowing robes and getting this schmoney. Big bonfire... women bussin open that strawberry poundcake for the god and he just shaking black pepper around like it grows on trees.

HELL YEAAAH you gonna try and capture him... you gonna try and capture fucking everybody. You can’t just yap the spice rack without the knowledge of how to implement that joint. Who gonna teach you how to do Selassie fingers? You’re gonna be uninstructed in the proper deployment of the lemon peppers. 

You’re gonna fumble the bag and ruin the mutton... so.... you know.... I get it. 

I can (in these context) wrap my mind around why they was stealing people wholesale.

I'm not defending slavery... I'm just illustrationing the importance of spices.

And the lack of spices promotes wicked interactions amongst mankind. That's fax 🖨

You ever have dinner with a person who puts OD condiments on steak? We all have unfortunately... and I bet you had a devilish time.

And the steak....  it was well done wasn't it... I know it was. Because I can recognize Lucifer and his works.

The UK is the same people who will serve you fried fish and french fries, then look you straight in the eyes like..

"you know what you missing, bruv...? A dixie cup of warm mashed up green peas.... yeah.. to eat. Whyyyyy?... because nationally our mouths are broken and we won't fix it. Oh... no?...you’re not interested??... Well would you rather have some pudding then, mi lord? Chocolate... oh no, guvnor. Not the delicious dessert that Bill Cosby ruined, I’m talking about this red dick with onions and blood in it. Yeah... to eat.. Spot on.. we call that pudding here, mate... it's smashing!!!" 

Fuck outta here.... that looks like poop with wood varnish on it.

 No surprise they had a whole tower for torturing people...

They wild AF... that's an angry culture, yo. Who designed their food shapes because I see a theme here?

These people were living in a nightmare and now they forgot where they came from. Talking bout Brexit: “too many foreigners”. Fuck around and everybody leave and take they recipe book with them.... then you back to having nothing but patriotic dicks to eat. Careful what you wish for, champ.

Anyway... I feel like the world could be a better place if people just had spices.

So what we should do is just look for whoever don't have seasonings... all around the world. And when we find em... just keep an eye on em... put em on a watchlist... they will be the world’s next troublemakers.

I promise.

But seriously... who TF eats mashed up peas? 

That shit still bothering me.... 

I hate peas... 

I love my grandma... but one time when I was a likkle yoot, she tried to feed me mashed up peas. At first I just kept turning my head away out of respect for the old earth. But when she persisted like some sort of colonial food terrorist with machinations of me dining on the meal responsible for 300yrs of atrocities and Hugh Grant.... I spit that shit dead in her face like champagne and told her I'm royalty... 

Be well, 

Kane M

[kanemayfield]

Chivalry… A Rest In Peace Tutorial

It may not be dead… but it definitely could use some therapy and a green juice.

This was the BX around 2010 at 1am when i was staying by my cousins house and chasing a rap career.

I can’t even re-tell this story in full, but I shall enumerate the 5 lessons of the day, and give my final thought like Jerry Springer. 

1. If you are buying sammiches… at 1am… in the south bronx… let’s not act like you are innocent. 

Bitch ain’t nothing out this time of the night except the devil, people who met him, and busy bodies who too dumb to know better.

*yes… i know I’m out here… i met him… I’m Swayze

You’re wearing a long tee shirt and knee-high boots… you’re already out of line. You look like a fashionable ghost..

Unless you selling that rhubarb.

In which case your pimp or lady pimp.. or whoever answers the email on your OnlyFans page should have handled this sammich run. Doordash niggas look like berserker vikings for a reason.. they deal with creatures of the night. Like Spawn.. or Michael Jackson.

2. If a gentleman of leisure walks into a sammich shop saying 

“Ayooo.. I just robbed me a nigga, turn dem cammas off so I can use deez creddy cars to buy shit”

AND is DEAD serious…

Making the lead poisoning at a young age face

You know the look… its a look of  

“I don’t know math / how to spell / say words good, so instead I’d rather get kicked out of class… so im gonna flip this desk over and call the teacher a white bitch”

Yeah… that face.

Fuck yeah you should leave him alone if you cant scrap. PERIOD. Nothing about this mans life seems like it has prepared him for complex decision making or whatever goes through the mind of people who don’t beat you up.

He just pointed a gun at the cashier of a sandwich shop he is NOT robbing as a way to accentuate his seriousness in using these cards to “spend gud money up in this mohfukka” and gesturing to all the stuff he wants to buy…

so he took a break to get your number…

its a compliment…

Be complimented and give him a fake number

Also this ain’t tag team.. I don’t know you OR him. Sun got on black air force 1’s and NBA jeans and you shot him down like this is 2pm in Tribeca and none of that other shit is happening.

Some of you only moved here post-gentrification. So let me help you. That particular pant and shoe combo is ONLY for people that demonstrate a proficiency sending you to the hospital. They are scary to the people you are already scared of. Remember the guy who mugged you? This is the guy who breaks in your muggers house and ties him up. The people who rob you have nightmares about people who wear this kind of shit.

So yeah… if he backs that thing out and I get hit in the crossfire and you DONT… my dying breath will be used to call you all types of bitches and dog headed bitches and stank hoes. I’m not an avenger. I’m high. I ain’t sign up for the Kumite. Fuck you think this is. You selling that rhubarb or what?

 3. You start wilding on that crazy dude like chivalry ain’t dead and my mother knows who you are. Not only did you tell him he cant get ur number, but you did it like an offended drag queen with WILD observational insults and fashion critiques. Then u went hands on like a beat cop out of patience and started shoving a man with a GUN… fuck yeah I will let you get Worldstar’d.  I will watch said crazy nigga sweep your leg like Karate kid and I will go have a Pepsi. In fact, I will tell you to shut up all the screaming as I order extra fixings on my delicious sammich from Aki while chastising him for being distracted and say tandem Muslim prayer for you… high five'ing sun as I leave the scene of your accosting.

How do I sleep?

Like a fucking newborn.  

4. Putting your hands in the face of a crazy nigga when you’re clearly not interested in telling me how handsome I am does not provide much in the way of motivation, to go all Batman Begins on anybody

The last thing ANYONE wants to hear after taking a few lead poisoning strenth haymakers is

“aaww.. Naah, I’m into girls… but thank you sooooo much… muah 💋”

So fuck that… you should have winked at me when you walked in here. I’m not a mind reader. 

5. Turning to me and Aki and saying

“yall just gonna let him put his hands on me?”

Yes.. yes I am…. technically YOU started it. I may say “is that lady bothering you sir”.

I know… we as a people (but really men) should be responsible for each other and protect our queens from the systemic oppression that has befallen their kingdom of the re-emanipationings and its a vicious SYNDROME that will be galvination’d as we all gain footing on the mountain top of Dr King and the such and such and so forth…

All that leather brimless hats shit goes right the fuck out the window in the Bronx at 2am when you was technically trying your luck, like your life had a Contra cheat code on it.

“Oh.. yall some whole bitches… bitch ass men… ain’t even help a WOMAN… how yall let him do me like this… im a WOMAAAANs”

Yeah… that don’t make me feel bad sun

It makes me want to pull out my phone and see if I can find a RZA instrumental that has the BPM’s of your ass whipping. Need a good backdrop for the Kung Fu noises and sonic rings I plan on adding in post edit.

This could have been avoided, but you wanted to make a stand… and you DID technically

Now we all know who’s not allowed to ask for your phone number… mid robbery…. at 4am…. in a sammich shop… in the south bronx.

You are a wild cowboy… he was really being sweet… asking if you wanted anything and all that. His beef was with the dude who ain’t wanna turn off the cameras for his theftwich (and probably Newport 100’s) so he could use credit cards he just stole.

There is a wallet deprived man blocks from here suffering from blunt force trauma that would have warned you that time is the only thing standing between this gentleman and ramen noodles with cut up beef jerky in it.

Think of the thought process behind a person like that… and he has a gun

and you want to call him all types of pussy ass niggas and fuckboy faggots and mush him in his subway series hat.

You are a crazy sob. You mushed a robber…mid robbery… or theftwich with extra hots….yeah.. not my problem. 

MORAL TO THE STORY: If you are a woman… or a beautiful womanly man or whatever… and you are a “hands in the face” type, you might want to know how to fight. Personally, I am not a beater of wimmins, but nor am I a street vigilante. My heroics are on a case by case basis.

You slapped my girl cousin… which one?

Some of em might have had it coming. We are a mouthy tribe.

I don’t go running off all willy nilly into trouble because a woman yells help… that’s how Rosewood started. 

Minding your business is a delicate process, like heart surgery, or pickpocketing. For moms and grandmoms I fight eternally, for sisters and close girl cousins.. until I get tired, but anything below that pay grade, you might want to call the cops, your man, your dad, the feller you are currently dutty whinin’, a nosy neighbour, a less jaded person than me, or keep your opinions to yourself in a sandwich shop in the Bronx at 4:30am, cause I ain’t helping you.

Unless (as we have covered) my mom knows you, or I think you will let me ladle that fondue as a parting gift. 

Love, 

Emmett … who ain’t in it

See if Aki got a cold compress for that eye.

[kanemayfield]

5 Reggae Party Rules (for ladies)

1. If he is talking to you & is over the age of 40, yall go together. At least till the end of the evening. It will be gunshots if you get the fraternizing. Keep it moving or choose wisely. Your name is now “Di Dautah”.

But be aware… sugar daddy…. and people factory… are NOT mutually exclusive. This 57yr old man will make his fingers like a gun and shoot your club right up. His nickname is the fertile crecent. You’ll be pregnant… and then a whole bunch of them old songs gonna start making sense.

You: Godfrey… I’m pregnant..

Yard Don: …hmmmm mmmmh…. mi seed strong…….

Then tell you how well all 23 of his pickney are doing in life like you need to be happy about it. The gods chose you.

BTW he’s rounding down at 23… sun don’t know the real number. And will call you and them kids 4 different names till he gets it right. This man been a gyalist since the Reagan era and when he brushes his teeth it sounds like an exorcism.

You might be confused… and that’s good. Cause when that last line makes sense it’s too late.

2. If he buys you a drink, and he is young… he’s got good manners. Now polygraph him for the secret family and/or domestic violence gene.. cause you might have found you a husband in here. If his mom is really nice but his grandma calls you “road gyal” and “wata bug” or “whore foot” or some crazy shit… thats the real McCoy. Plan the wedding and know his mom don’t like you either.

But…

If he bought you a drink and he is 50+… he is a drug dealer.

But.. he is a classy one. He drives an 89 BMW.

He is like the boxwine of drug dealers. You see that nugget watch… its bank… be impressed by it.

If he has the matching nugget ring and bracelet he been hustling since your dad was in High School and his gun got bodies on it. He still got a closet full of Dapper Dan suits that he’s looking for an excuse to wear. His beeper number is older than his last 2 girlfriends. That may sound 🚩but there is something to be said for a man who does not change. Also a 68yr old west indian man isn’t playing around either… homey been a coxman since Sparrow Meets The Dragon and is doped up on all types of sea moss and tiger balms and fuck powders. He got a whole draw full of enhancements to ensure he can put ur pum pum on the injured reserve list. No one wears a vintage Stetson hat if they can’t sling dick… store won’t even sell em to you without references.

Oh… and he will pistol whip one of these young Thundercats for getting fresh with you… him… the bartender… for wearing white after labor day… anything. All of it. He lives on go mode. Got a whole song about his mindset

3. If you are even moderately attractive dudes are gonna just start dancing with you w/out asking.

Dancing is rubbing his dick on you. Know that this comes with your price of admission.

Note for you fellas… you are gonna want to maintain an appropriate level of trouser discipline here. Yes these rules are for ladies but some of yall jokers are wilding.

Proper etiquette dictates & demands… quarter chub. Not more… not less.

It cant be nothing… trust me… nothing is bad. Too much is worse.

Do not bring your raging erection to a party such as this. An old lady is gonna hit you with a purse wild times as they chase you out for being a “dutty rapscallion” or some English sounding shit like that. So quarter chub… its proper presentation levels. Enough to indicate interest, but not land yourself on a watchlist for being some sort of fuck goblin. Don’t be the guy known as “too horny” for a Trinidadian birthday… they national export is homewreckers. Word.

Anyway if you don’t want to have dick rubbed on your ass (or the middle of your back if you’re short) then stay home or sit down in the booth with Boxwine. He aint dancing less Police In Helicopter come on. That will mostly consist of mild hopping on one foot with a hand in the air.

No… he doesn’t expect you to do it with him. It’s like the humpty… but for weed. But if he starts skanking… you can go get some shit from your car and come back…. thats like the old yardie man version of vouging on a runway. That shit is the ital cripwalk… legendary.

But everybody didn’t wear Clarks here, which brings me to the young Jamaicans. Watch the fuck out for these young yardie yoot dem. Hes not like the Yard Don over there. This nigga don’t wanna dance… he wanna do WWF moves on you.

Yeah…. you see that… those are the arm gestures of a man that don’t care about your safety. He aint here for a good time.. he’s here for a fucking ladder match.

Yes…. thats right…. he jumped on her back for a horsey ride…. and that is how he starts. I love you… I care… so if he tries to dance with you and starts by telling everyone to back up. Run. He is gonna do the stone cold stunner on you and dutty whine over your concussed frame. While his friends cheer him on, wave homemade blowtorches in the air, and don’t call you an ambulance. Talking bout “she nuh ready yet”.

Just dont…

Theres no solidarity here… bitches will step over you like Allen Iverson talking bout “big ooman ting dis” and enter the octagon with that nigga. This shit is a royal rumble.

4. Everyone makes their fingers like a gun.. it’s the guy that DOESN’T that has one.

Watch out for that guy.. he bought u a drink.

If this is a REAL party than there is a 70% chance it’s not in a “club” club. It could be in the basement of a house… or at a Knights Of Columbus or a VFW (which is just a house we don’t mind if you break). The lower the deposit the worse the security.

And security is someone’s uncle… and he ain’t dying for your safety. Mind your mannerisms. If it’s dark… and you see a crew of women got a bright camera light in they face… they talking shit to it in between slow whining on air… wearing bright pastels… yeah…. just dont…. they with the shits. Don’t even matter… whatever you with… they with it…whatever kind of smoke… brisket… choo choo train… colorful smoke. All of it.

Oh.. you thought she was “DONE” dancing with him… naah sis… she cyan dun…. and now you getting jumped by the trenchtown Powerpuff Girls and they washing you out to a cutty ranks song. No one will stop dancing… apparently you wanted to test they rocket launcher.

5. If you are not west indian… remember…. twerking shall never defeat whining. This is law.. The world has led you astray. All the Dominican surgical’s can’t help you here.. you built like a freshly pulled tooth 🦷 and can’t dance for shit. That skinny girl giving you all the work. She is rolling her eyes at YOU.. yeah… this is her kingdom girl… she can’t fill out windbreaker pants but will blow you off the dance floor. You are outside your jurisdiction ma.

Everybodys looking. We secretly look at you the way you look at white people dancing… with amused pity.

Yes… we know the words to all these songs.

Yes.. the Dj asked you if your pussy is good.

Yeah.. thats normal… its actually a compliment.

Yeah he shouted it… he gonna shout over all this shit.

Yes that old man IS checking you out.

No.. you can’t go upstairs. Because the uncles that aren’t allowed down here for monstrous reasons are up there lurking…

NO you DON’T want to meet them… some of them niggas ain’t allowed to babysit.

Don’t eyeball those broads… they a different kind of ratchet.

The backyard is for smokers and dudes trying to take you home TONIGHT…. list goes on.

The best dick you’ve ever had is here but you don’t want it… it’ll be administered by a nigga named Fitzroy St Joseph McCloud who will get your number very calmly while two women fight over him on the front lawn. This man will exhale and look you right in the eyes and say “you know… I don’t know what all that excitement is about. Some people just shouldn’t drink”. This man has 47 children.

This can seem a bit overwhelming to the uninitiated.

People will ask you what you “are”. They want to know what kind of west indian your family is so they can play the averages of how to proceed. They will look dissapoint when you go “im just plain old black”. They hit you wit the ohhh… awwww…. well thats ok… are you have fun? Like you told them ur in a wheelchair.

That can be uncomfortable so just pick some 3rd tier country and claim it (parkway rules). If you are unclear with the tier system ask a Jamaican, Trini, or Guyanese. Those are your 1st tier west indians. Then you got your Bajans, Grenada, and ill let Aruba and VI fight it out for “other places who can’t make patty for shit but you can still get shot.”

Bahamas, Bermuda, or Saint (Anything). Those places have low gun violence and inferior curry. Be them… we will expect less of you lol.

Ok… don’t do your face like that… if a Yankee called you a coconut I’m right there with you to help you stomp em out with unlaced timbs. We are family…. this is home talk… you KNOW yall niggas don’t count like that.

You think St. Barts be ringing off like that? If you don’t have a parade truck on the parkway… you’re not a real country. The president of your country teaches scuba at the Hyatt. Your army wears cargo shorts and sandals. I don’t make the rules. Get your crime rate up or accept your place in the pecking order. Curacao is a shitty mixer.. not a place. Aint no nigga from Nassau gonna do shit besides braid your hair or overcharge you for a cruise activity.

Oh and honorary mentions to Haiti. They give it up…. but these rules don’t even work for yall. Picture an old Haitian man…. you better HOPE he aint buy you a drink. Most of the time it just ain’t happening anyway. He gonna look wild offended like you tried to put a finger in his butt… and tell you have some water.

These are the rules…. buss a whine in good health

Love’

Kane

[ironsidehex]

R.I.P: A Sean Price Story: Conspiracy To Commit Murder On The Autobahn

3.17.72, the day the great

Sean Price was hatched.

In honor of Ruck's Birfday, i’ll tell a quick Sean Price story. I told this story before on Instagram but it was the Reader’s Digest abridged version.

This is the whole s###. I’ll call this one:

“CONSPIRACY TO COMMIT MURDER ON THE AUTOBAHN” or “DOG, YOU’RE TRIPPING.”

This s### is extra stupid, but it shows how Ruck could be furious & still hilarious at the same time.

It was 2007, on the THREE THE HARD WAY tour, featuring Sean Price, Guilty Simpson, & Black Milk, pre-Random Axe.

We were some-f######-where in Germany & we had an early lobby call so we could head to the next city. It was about 6 or 7 am when everybody started to come down to the lobby, dragging their bags & their feet.

I was already down there with our tour manager, Nils, this young German dude. I was sprawled on a chair, still drunk from the show the night before. We got up, went outside to the parking lot & started throwing luggage in the rear of the van. After Black’s slow-ass came straggling to the vehicle we were ready to go.

Nils was driving, I was in the passenger seat, Ruck & Rustee Juxx ( Ruck’s ‘hypeman’ ) were directly behind me with Guilty & Black Milk having the last two rows of seats to themselves. I popped in our advance bootleg copy of JayZ’s “American Gangster” CD & we were off.

Everybody was lethargic, but after a while everyone started waking up a little & talking s### as usual. This was 07 so somebody said “PAUSE” in the middle or at the end of every sentence. We ‘PAUSED’ the s### out of each other constantly. It was like a spoken punctuation.

You know what “PAUSE” is right? It’s used as a disclaimer when someone unwittingly says something that can be construed as h######### s###. Like if somebody says, “NAW, I AINT HIP TO THAT. FILL ME IN” or “DUMARS USE TO BE ALL OVER JORDAN. HIS ‘D’ WAS RIDICULOUS”.

That type of s### would get a “PAUSE.”

I know.

Juvenile as f###.

This is the type of environment this debacle takes place in.

First you gotta understand that English isn’t Nils first language & he doesn’t really understand all the nuances of it. He kind of just mimicked or repeated what we said without fully grasping what we meant. Ok, the scene is set. We were talking s### & Ruck said something benign like “I’M HUNGRY”.

Nils jumped on it.

This was his chance.

“PAWS!”, he yelled.

“Hehe, PAWS!”

He looked around at everyone in the van, kind of looking for approval. We got sort of quiet. We weren’t trying to be rude to Nils but to make that statement pauseworthy was a reach.

Suddenly Ruck leaned forward from the seat behind me. “Yo son, can u drive this van?”

I looked over at the driver seat, looked at the steering wheel, shift selector, pedals, etc. It was a normal set up. I didn’t know what Ruck had in mind but sure, I could drive the van.

“Yup”, I replied, curious as to why he asked me that.

“Good”, he said. “I’m gonna kill this n***a Nils, & we’re gonna dump his body on the side of the road. You can drive us to the next venue.”

Nils was white as a ghost. I kinda looked at Nils & shrugged. Then I turned around & looked at Ruck, searching his face for a hint of a smile or something that would tell me he was bullshitting. There was none. I realized that Sean Price was serious as f###.

“Dog, you’re tripping.” I said.

I mean, first of all we were in f###### Germany, I had no idea where we were going. Plus we were on the f###### Autobahn & cars were going past us at 200 f###### miles per hour. Oh yeah, & we aren’t gonna f###### kill Nils.

I cited all of these reasons to Ruck as to why his plan was a bad f###### idea. He finally relented but he growled at Nils, “YOU BETTER SHUT THE F### UP!”

Nils lived but he used minimal words the rest of the tour, especially around Sean Price. I think he loosened up later in the run but he didn’t get that f###### loose again. Ruck damn near rendered that man a mute.

Only Sean P could make a murder plot funny as f###.

(Funny in retrospect only, because this s### wasn’t that funny when it was happening. )

I really love & miss that dude.

No “PAWS” needed.

[upnorthtrips]

Do Remember! The Golden Era of NYC Hip-Hop Mixtapes is the first comprehensive deep-dive oral and visual history of the golden era of hip-hop mixtape culture in New York City. From street corners to corner offices, mixtapes made a huge impact on the music industry and hip-hop culture in New York City during the late ’80s, ’90s, and early 2000s. Mixtapes helped dictate what rap songs were hot in the clubs, on the radio, and in the streets, and they influenced which artists would get signed to record deals. Mixtapes also showcased which DJs had the most skills and creativity, and who had the juice to pull the illest exclusives. Do Remember! combines the best elements of oral and pictorial histories to explore the evolution of mixtapes as a crucial component of New York City hip-hop culture. Featuring a comprehensive collection of rare mixtape cover art, never-before-seen images, vintage tracklists, and exclusive interviews with Kid Capri, Brucie B, Mister Cee, Ron G, S&S, Doo Wop, Green Lantern, Lord Finesse, Clark Kent, Bobbito, Cipha Sounds, Havoc of Mobb Deep, the late, great DJ Kay Slay, and many more, including a special foreword by Fab 5 Freddy, Do Remember! captures an era in New York City that went on to inspire future hip-hop generations all over the world.

BUY THE BOOK

COP MERCH

LISTEN TO THE MIXTAPE

SUBSCRIBE TO THE NEWSLETTER

[upnorthtrips]

Do Remember! The Golden Era of NYC Hip-Hop Mixtapes is the first comprehensive deep-dive oral and visual history of the golden era of hip-hop mixtape culture in New York City. From street corners to corner offices, mixtapes made a huge impact on the music industry and hip-hop culture in New York City during the late ’80s, ’90s, and early 2000s. Mixtapes helped dictate what rap songs were hot in the clubs, on the radio, and in the streets, and they influenced which artists would get signed to record deals. Mixtapes also showcased which DJs had the most skills and creativity, and who had the juice to pull the illest exclusives. Do Remember! combines the best elements of oral and pictorial histories to explore the evolution of mixtapes as a crucial component of New York City hip-hop culture. Featuring a comprehensive collection of rare mixtape cover art, never-before-seen images, vintage tracklists, and exclusive interviews with Kid Capri, Brucie B, Mister Cee, Ron G, S&S, Doo Wop, Green Lantern, Lord Finesse, Clark Kent, Bobbito, Cipha Sounds, Havoc of Mobb Deep, the late, great DJ Kay Slay, and many more, including a special foreword by Fab 5 Freddy, Do Remember! captures an era in New York City that went on to inspire future hip-hop generations all over the world.

BUY THE BOOK

COP MERCH

LISTEN TO THE MIXTAPE

SUBSCRIBE TO THE NEWSLETTER

[kanemayfield]

5 Reggae Party Rules (for ladies)

1. If he is talking to you & is over the age of 40, yall go together. At least till the end of the evening. It will be gunshots if you get the fraternizing. Keep it moving or choose wisely. Your name is now "Di Dautah".

But be aware... sugar daddy.... and people factory... are NOT mutually exclusive. This 57yr old man will make his fingers like a gun and shoot your club right up. His nickname is the fertile crecent. You'll be pregnant... and then a whole bunch of them old songs gonna start making sense.

You: Godfrey... I'm pregnant..

Yard Don: ...hmmmm mmmmh.... mi seed strong.......

Then tell you how well all 23 of his pickney are doing in life like you need to be happy about it. The gods chose you.

BTW he's rounding down at 23... sun don't know the real number. And will call you and them kids 4 different names till he gets it right. This man been a gyalist since the Reagan era and when he brushes his teeth it sounds like an exorcism.

You might be confused... and that's good. Cause when that last line makes sense it's too late.

2. If he buys you a drink, and he is young... he's got good manners. Now polygraph him for the secret family and/or domestic violence gene.. cause you might have found you a husband in here. If his mom is really nice but his grandma calls you "road gyal" and "wata bug" or "whore foot" or some crazy shit... thats the real McCoy. Plan the wedding and know his mom don't like you either.

But...

If he bought you a drink and he is 50+... he is a drug dealer.

But.. he is a classy one. He drives an 89 BMW.

He is like the boxwine of drug dealers. You see that nugget watch... its bank... be impressed by it.

If he has the matching nugget ring and bracelet he been hustling since your dad was in High School and his gun got bodies on it. He still got a closet full of Dapper Dan suits that he's looking for an excuse to wear. His beeper number is older than his last 2 girlfriends. That may sound 🚩but there is something to be said for a man who does not change. Also a 68yr old west indian man isn't playing around either... homey been a coxman since Sparrow Meets The Dragon and is doped up on all types of sea moss and tiger balms and fuck powders. He got a whole draw full of enhancements to ensure he can put ur pum pum on the injured reserve list. No one wears a vintage Stetson hat if they can't sling dick... store won't even sell em to you without references.

Oh... and he will pistol whip one of these young Thundercats for getting fresh with you... him... the bartender... for wearing white after labor day... anything. All of it. He lives on go mode. Got a whole song about his mindset

3. If you are even moderately attractive dudes are gonna just start dancing with you w/out asking.

Dancing is rubbing his dick on you. Know that this comes with your price of admission.

Note for you fellas... you are gonna want to maintain an appropriate level of trouser discipline here. Yes these rules are for ladies but some of yall jokers are wilding.

Proper etiquette dictates & demands... quarter chub. Not more... not less.

It cant be nothing... trust me... nothing is bad. Too much is worse.

Do not bring your raging erection to a party such as this. An old lady is gonna hit you with a purse wild times as they chase you out for being a “dutty rapscallion” or some English sounding shit like that. So quarter chub... its proper presentation levels. Enough to indicate interest, but not land yourself on a watchlist for being some sort of fuck goblin. Don't be the guy known as “too horny” for a Trinidadian birthday... they national export is homewreckers. Word.

Anyway if you don't want to have dick rubbed on your ass (or the middle of your back if you're short) then stay home or sit down in the booth with Boxwine. He aint dancing less Police In Helicopter come on. That will mostly consist of mild hopping on one foot with a hand in the air.

No... he doesn't expect you to do it with him. It's like the humpty... but for weed. But if he starts skanking... you can go get some shit from your car and come back.... thats like the old yardie man version of vouging on a runway. That shit is the ital cripwalk... legendary.

But everybody didn’t wear Clarks here, which brings me to the young Jamaicans. Watch the fuck out for these young yardie yoot dem. Hes not like the Yard Don over there. This nigga don't wanna dance... he wanna do WWF moves on you.

Yeah.... you see that... those are the arm gestures of a man that don't care about your safety. He aint here for a good time.. he's here for a fucking ladder match.

Yes.... thats right.... he jumped on her back for a horsey ride.... and that is how he starts. I love you... I care... so if he tries to dance with you and starts by telling everyone to back up. Run. He is gonna do the stone cold stunner on you and dutty whine over your concussed frame. While his friends cheer him on, wave homemade blowtorches in the air, and don't call you an ambulance. Talking bout "she nuh ready yet".

Just dont...

Theres no solidarity here... bitches will step over you like Allen Iverson talking bout "big ooman ting dis" and enter the octagon with that nigga. This shit is a royal rumble.

4. Everyone makes their fingers like a gun.. it's the guy that DOESN'T that has one.

Watch out for that guy.. he bought u a drink.

If this is a REAL party than there is a 70% chance it's not in a "club" club. It could be in the basement of a house... or at a Knights Of Columbus or a VFW (which is just a house we don't mind if you break). The lower the deposit the worse the security.

And security is someone's uncle... and he ain't dying for your safety. Mind your mannerisms. If it's dark... and you see a crew of women got a bright camera light in they face... they talking shit to it in between slow whining on air... wearing bright pastels... yeah.... just dont.... they with the shits. Don't even matter... whatever you with... they with it...whatever kind of smoke... brisket... choo choo train... colorful smoke. All of it.

Oh.. you thought she was "DONE" dancing with him... naah sis... she cyan dun.... and now you getting jumped by the trenchtown Powerpuff Girls and they washing you out to a cutty ranks song. No one will stop dancing... apparently you wanted to test they rocket launcher.

5. If you are not west indian... remember.... twerking shall never defeat whining. This is law.. The world has led you astray. All the Dominican surgical's can't help you here.. you built like a freshly pulled tooth 🦷 and can't dance for shit. That skinny girl giving you all the work. She is rolling her eyes at YOU.. yeah... this is her kingdom girl... she can't fill out windbreaker pants but will blow you off the dance floor. You are outside your jurisdiction ma.

Everybodys looking. We secretly look at you the way you look at white people dancing... with amused pity.

Yes... we know the words to all these songs.

Yes.. the Dj asked you if your pussy is good.

Yeah.. thats normal... its actually a compliment.

Yeah he shouted it... he gonna shout over all this shit.

Yes that old man IS checking you out.

No.. you can't go upstairs. Because the uncles that aren't allowed down here for monstrous reasons are up there lurking...

NO you DON'T want to meet them... some of them niggas ain't allowed to babysit.

Don't eyeball those broads... they a different kind of ratchet.

The backyard is for smokers and dudes trying to take you home TONIGHT.... list goes on.

The best dick you've ever had is here but you don't want it... it'll be administered by a nigga named Fitzroy St Joseph McCloud who will get your number very calmly while two women fight over him on the front lawn. This man will exhale and look you right in the eyes and say "you know... I don't know what all that excitement is about. Some people just shouldn't drink". This man has 47 children.

This can seem a bit overwhelming to the uninitiated.

People will ask you what you "are". They want to know what kind of west indian your family is so they can play the averages of how to proceed. They will look dissapoint when you go "im just plain old black". They hit you wit the ohhh... awwww.... well thats ok... are you have fun? Like you told them ur in a wheelchair.

That can be uncomfortable so just pick some 3rd tier country and claim it (parkway rules). If you are unclear with the tier system ask a Jamaican, Trini, or Guyanese. Those are your 1st tier west indians. Then you got your Bajans, Grenada, and ill let Aruba and VI fight it out for "other places who can't make patty for shit but you can still get shot."

Bahamas, Bermuda, or Saint (Anything). Those places have low gun violence and inferior curry. Be them... we will expect less of you lol.

Ok... don't do your face like that... if a Yankee called you a coconut I'm right there with you to help you stomp em out with unlaced timbs. We are family.... this is home talk... you KNOW yall niggas don't count like that.

You think St. Barts be ringing off like that? If you don't have a parade truck on the parkway... you're not a real country. The president of your country teaches scuba at the Hyatt. Your army wears cargo shorts and sandals. I don't make the rules. Get your crime rate up or accept your place in the pecking order. Curacao is a shitty mixer.. not a place. Aint no nigga from Nassau gonna do shit besides braid your hair or overcharge you for a cruise activity.

Oh and honorary mentions to Haiti. They give it up.... but these rules don't even work for yall. Picture an old Haitian man.... you better HOPE he aint buy you a drink. Most of the time it just ain't happening anyway. He gonna look wild offended like you tried to put a finger in his butt... and tell you have some water.

These are the rules.... buss a whine in good health

Love'

Kane

[kanemayfield]

Ask Dr. Mayfield - "My Man Wants Me To Pee On Him But I Dont Want To"

Q. I always considered myself adventurous in bed but now my mate wants me to do something I'm not comfortable with. He wants me to pee on him. I can squirt on occasion but now when i dont squirt he ask me to pee in order to simulate that. I cant bring myself to do it and he keeps asking. What should I say?

==========================

Well...... i hope you scotch guard your mattress lol. Naah, but for serious though... I laughed out loud and had to really think about this question for a second. Why DONT you want to pee on him? I know i know... yukky gross and all that jazz, so let me just state one REALLY BIG DEAL.

If your question is "how do I make him not want this" the answer is you cant. Simple. You cant ignore a fetish.. it will just get all clandestine and scary and then he wont rest till you bend a fresh biscuit on his chest. So yeah.. no ignoring it. Either you do it.. or someone else will, because there are gonna be some compromises in relationships. I mean look... and this is going to sound a little off right... but VERY FEW of us are as sexually adventurous as we think. Its easy to say, "I am a freak" but really never have to live up to it. I know that when he puts his thumb in your ass, and your eyes roll to the back of your head, and he pulls your hair (hopefully you have hair for the purposes of this example) and he slaps you directly on your right ass cheek... it is easy to feel like your just a dye job away from being Pinkey The Pornstar. But truth be told... in comparison to whats out there...NAAH SUN. We are living in the future.. like Bladerunner... this is the golden age of lap dances... you are the sexual equivalent of the Cinemax chick riding dick while hand shielding her vagina. Dont believe me??? Well.... you ever dress up like a big cartoon bear with the crotch cut out of the suit, piled into a van with 20 or so like minded individuals got to a grassy field and had a big animal orgy? Yeah well they got whole magazines for the shit. No really.... they are called Furries... i seen a purple unicorn bang a monkey creature, some chipmunk was like getting WRECKED by some kind of a lion man or something....yeah. To be honest it sounds kind of fun... like on some "one time on my birthday" shit.

Anywho... (Furries aside) you have a couple options, because no one should be forced to do anything they don't want to do. Unless thats what your into, and in which case dude should NOT try that until you sign a waiver. For instance, I once dated a chick that wanted me to bang her with my big toe. Really really not cool... just made my feet feel too dirty for my socks. Again if you dont want to pee on him cause you think it will offend Jesus or whatever.. then by all means save your soul. But if your gonna be with someone for a while your probably going to do some freaky stuff from time to time. The nigga likes liquid squirting him in the face. Buy a seltzer bottle. Pee in it, and squirt him in the face with it JUST BEFORE he walks out the door for work on a Monday morning. See how deep the rabbit hole goes. Also what kind of pee. You got "drank a bunch of water...so it looks like water" pee, and then you got "been eating steak and asparagus all the day long so its deep dark sunset yellow" pee. Two very different fetishes. Get in where you fit in, and make him sully himself for you in retaliation. Because nothing says "we're even" like telling him the safe word and then putting a ball gag in his mouth.

As far as some actual advice (cause I jump around when the question is fetish related) I would say give it a whirl. Its not like he wants to pee on YOU. Just sit that fucker in the bathtub... pee on his head, and go have a Dannon yogurt. He will be happy for a week and you can use it as a get out of jail free card. By the way... the fact that you can squirt is awesome. You have a slightly lower chance of ME ever wanting to pee on you so... you know... if it dont work out... drip it on down my driveway. LOL.

Stay Thirsty My Friends.... hahahha.

Also See: Ask Dr. Mayfield - “I Am In Love With Someone, But She Is Back On Drugs"

[kanemayfield]

Chivalry... A Rest In Peace Tutorial

It may not be dead... but it definitely could use some therapy and a green juice.

This was the BX around 2010 at 1am when i was staying by my cousins house and chasing a rap career.

I can't even re-tell this story in full, but I shall enumerate the 5 lessons of the day, and give my final thought like Jerry Springer. 

1. If you are buying sammiches... at 1am... in the south bronx... let's not act like you are innocent. 

Bitch ain't nothing out this time of the night except the devil, people who met him, and busy bodies who too dumb to know better.

*yes... i know I'm out here... i met him... I'm Swayze

You're wearing a long tee shirt and knee-high boots... you're already out of line. You look like a fashionable ghost..

Unless you selling that rhubarb.

In which case your pimp or lady pimp.. or whoever answers the email on your OnlyFans page should have handled this sammich run. Doordash niggas look like berserker vikings for a reason.. they deal with creatures of the night. Like Spawn.. or Michael Jackson.

2. If a gentleman of leisure walks into a sammich shop saying 

"Ayooo.. I just robbed me a nigga, turn dem cammas off so I can use deez creddy cars to buy shit"

AND is DEAD serious...

Making the lead poisoning at a young age face

You know the look... its a look of  

“I don't know math / how to spell / say words good, so instead I'd rather get kicked out of class... so im gonna flip this desk over and call the teacher a white bitch”

Yeah... that face.

Fuck yeah you should leave him alone if you cant scrap. PERIOD. Nothing about this mans life seems like it has prepared him for complex decision making or whatever goes through the mind of people who don't beat you up.

He just pointed a gun at the cashier of a sandwich shop he is NOT robbing as a way to accentuate his seriousness in using these cards to "spend gud money up in this mohfukka" and gesturing to all the stuff he wants to buy...

so he took a break to get your number...

its a compliment...

Be complimented and give him a fake number

Also this ain't tag team.. I don't know you OR him. Sun got on black air force 1's and NBA jeans and you shot him down like this is 2pm in Tribeca and none of that other shit is happening.

Some of you only moved here post-gentrification. So let me help you. That particular pant and shoe combo is ONLY for people that demonstrate a proficiency sending you to the hospital. They are scary to the people you are already scared of. Remember the guy who mugged you? This is the guy who breaks in your muggers house and ties him up. The people who rob you have nightmares about people who wear this kind of shit.

So yeah... if he backs that thing out and I get hit in the crossfire and you DONT... my dying breath will be used to call you all types of bitches and dog headed bitches and stank hoes. I’m not an avenger. I'm high. I ain't sign up for the Kumite. Fuck you think this is. You selling that rhubarb or what?

 3. You start wilding on that crazy dude like chivalry ain't dead and my mother knows who you are. Not only did you tell him he cant get ur number, but you did it like an offended drag queen with WILD observational insults and fashion critiques. Then u went hands on like a beat cop out of patience and started shoving a man with a GUN... fuck yeah I will let you get Worldstar’d.  I will watch said crazy nigga sweep your leg like Karate kid and I will go have a Pepsi. In fact, I will tell you to shut up all the screaming as I order extra fixings on my delicious sammich from Aki while chastising him for being distracted and say tandem Muslim prayer for you... high five'ing sun as I leave the scene of your accosting.

How do I sleep?

Like a fucking newborn.  

4. Putting your hands in the face of a crazy nigga when you're clearly not interested in telling me how handsome I am does not provide much in the way of motivation, to go all Batman Begins on anybody

The last thing ANYONE wants to hear after taking a few lead poisoning strenth haymakers is

"aaww.. Naah, I'm into girls... but thank you sooooo much... muah 💋"

So fuck that... you should have winked at me when you walked in here. I’m not a mind reader. 

5. Turning to me and Aki and saying

"yall just gonna let him put his hands on me?"

Yes.. yes I am.... technically YOU started it. I may say "is that lady bothering you sir".

I know... we as a people (but really men) should be responsible for each other and protect our queens from the systemic oppression that has befallen their kingdom of the re-emanipationings and its a vicious SYNDROME that will be galvination'd as we all gain footing on the mountain top of Dr King and the such and such and so forth...

All that leather brimless hats shit goes right the fuck out the window in the Bronx at 2am when you was technically trying your luck, like your life had a Contra cheat code on it.

"Oh.. yall some whole bitches... bitch ass men... ain't even help a WOMAN... how yall let him do me like this... im a WOMAAAANs"

Yeah... that don't make me feel bad sun

It makes me want to pull out my phone and see if I can find a RZA instrumental that has the BPM’s of your ass whipping. Need a good backdrop for the Kung Fu noises and sonic rings I plan on adding in post edit.

This could have been avoided, but you wanted to make a stand... and you DID technically

Now we all know who's not allowed to ask for your phone number... mid robbery.... at 4am.... in a sammich shop... in the south bronx.

You are a wild cowboy... he was really being sweet... asking if you wanted anything and all that. His beef was with the dude who ain't wanna turn off the cameras for his theftwich (and probably Newport 100's) so he could use credit cards he just stole.

There is a wallet deprived man blocks from here suffering from blunt force trauma that would have warned you that time is the only thing standing between this gentleman and ramen noodles with cut up beef jerky in it.

Think of the thought process behind a person like that... and he has a gun

and you want to call him all types of pussy ass niggas and fuckboy faggots and mush him in his subway series hat.

You are a crazy sob. You mushed a robber...mid robbery... or theftwich with extra hots....yeah.. not my problem. 

MORAL TO THE STORY: If you are a woman... or a beautiful womanly man or whatever... and you are a "hands in the face" type, you might want to know how to fight. Personally, I am not a beater of wimmins, but nor am I a street vigilante. My heroics are on a case by case basis.

You slapped my girl cousin... which one?

Some of em might have had it coming. We are a mouthy tribe.

I don't go running off all willy nilly into trouble because a woman yells help... that's how Rosewood started. 

Minding your business is a delicate process, like heart surgery, or pickpocketing. For moms and grandmoms I fight eternally, for sisters and close girl cousins.. until I get tired, but anything below that pay grade, you might want to call the cops, your man, your dad, the feller you are currently dutty whinin', a nosy neighbour, a less jaded person than me, or keep your opinions to yourself in a sandwich shop in the Bronx at 4:30am, cause I ain't helping you.

Unless (as we have covered) my mom knows you, or I think you will let me ladle that fondue as a parting gift. 

Love, 

Emmett ... who ain't in it

See if Aki got a cold compress for that eye.

[kanemayfield]

A Message To My Unborn Daughter: (3 Rules)

1. Always have cab-fare… your homegirl aint cab-fare… she is sleepy and not answering the phone. Cursing her out wont help.. google a taxi.. or a flying car.. or whatever yall got in the future.

2. There is no such thing as “just one drink”. He know’s it, and I know it. You have my genes and (hopefully) my tolerance for whiskey. Pick one drink and stick to it. Make him feel like a moistened vagina for not drinking twice as much as you. If the vibe gets uncomfortable sit like mechanic with your elbows on your knees and bring up baseball statistics. If he knows… he just lost his chub.. if he dont.. tell em you only bang real men who know baseball statistics. Win Win.

3. Backrubs are how douche bags make babies. I cant see the future… but i know there are douche bags there. Know why? Because bitches be getting backrubs. Look at that man.. you can smell his cologne (or Spacely Sprocket Mist future cologne or whatever). Does he have shoulder length hair, a handlebar mustache, and an all white outfit… nope… he dont.. so he aint a fucking masseuse. He is a filth monger who will unhook that bra faster than you can say President Jaden Smith. Look at him… now imagine him winking at his homeboy while he tells you he dont have money for pampers hanging up on you, and making it rain bitcoins down at whatever passes for a tittybar in the future. Probably got robot fuck dancers. Hope i live to see that.

Love Dad,

PS… no you cant borrow my flying car. In my day you had to drive on the road and ride bicycles and shit.

[rapradar]

#RP @upnorthtrips

[kanemayfield]

"...the only thing thats going to free Huey (Newton) is GUNPOWDER... BLACK POWDER"

https://soundcloud.com/kanemayfield/black-powder

[kanemayfield]

Thanksgiving Rules: 10 Rules For An Appropriate Turkey Day

Thanksgiving Rules: 

(feel free to add your own)

1. If you cant personally (and without the help of wikipedia) name more than 3 Native American Tribes, then i dont want to hear you prattle on about the plight of the engine. Indians lost my nigga... however, they get free tuition, casino's, and cigarette money. Your facebook post does not contribute to shit... its electronic litter... which makes indians cry... see what i did there?

  2. Dont text me........... naah seriously.... dont do that shit. I aint call you cause we are not that close. I'm replying to everyone with dick pics.

And not mine either, old man dick pics... you have been warned.

  3. If you are not drunk we are having two totally different holidays.

  4. (ladies) If you are at the club, and your kids are with their grandmomma (aka their Mon-Fri mom)... thats fucked up, but if you post your sloppy drunk pictures and there is a nip slip of some kind, all wrongs have been righted in the universe and i will "like" button your boobs. Yeah.. your pretty much dropping the ball as a parent, but society is getting something out of it... so.. you know... even steven. Its like Obamacare.

  5. Dont fucking text me... i got another one while i was writing this. My mother has never met you... dont ask about her... "Me & Mine" want "You & Yours" to drink the stuff under your kitchen sink.

  6. Deep frying turkey is better left to the professionals ... your drunk uncle Frank with the milky eye is not that professional. Eat some chicken and chill out. Everytime i hear a fire engine I will giggle like a schoolgirl and hope its the home of someone who texted me.

  7. Not all of your kids are cute... do the right thing... avoid the uggo's when your BLASTING all the holiday pictures at me. Tagging strangers in pictures of your ugly child holding a turkey leg is not hip... we are all secretly judging the inside of your house, and wondering if you have to pay EXTRA on picture day cause.. you know.. your kids face is all "hard to watch" and shit.

  8. It is 100% okay to Jehovah Witness your junkie relatives when they knock on your door. You aint invite them, and your not running a soup kitchen. Dont believe the hype, its just Thursday and you are under no obligation to feed these niggas. Trust me, I'm a doctor. Nothing will blow your high like trying to fight a tryptophan induced fat coma, while your auntie gives you a "jesus for junkies" monologue while giving your pocketable electronics the side eye.

  9. Im not being cute when i say this... but fam... im gonna send you a picture of some scrote... stop texting me.

  10. Peace and love, and gluttony. Think about it, days like this is why a large portion of the world hates us. We are fat, and make up holidays to commemorate how we slaughtered, starved, and smallpox blanketed an indigenous people to the brink of extinction so we could build mega malls on top of their cemeteries and (in a half court shot of irony) trample each other to death in order to buy a bunch of shit, rack up debt, work jobs we hate to pay it off, and brag about how free we are .

So to celebrate we are under oath as Americans to live it up. So EVERYBODY get drunk and stank, eat until your toilet looks at you like "where you gonna put all that", and try not to pass out near your "funny" uncle. Pretend to love each other, because its not about family or community.. its about making sure the women around you can still cook, and carbing up for Black Friday. 

And dont think your gonna just be HOUSING niggas at walmart come midnight. YOU my friend are out of shape. Save the soda till around 10pm.. then you go out like a wild man. Put on your snow shoveling boots and remember one thing... if they are "too old" to knock down and trample... they should have stayed they old ass home... like the indians... like bitches... lol HAPPY TURKEY DAY. 

[kanemayfield]

The powers that BE... ... have no power over ME So who are YOU? Whats your identity?

[thequietlunch]

"Identity" | Kane Mayfield. | @KaneMayfield #Identity

[kanemayfield]

https://soundcloud.com/kanemayfield/identity

[kanemayfield]

This is some of the most honest music..... 

[kanemayfield]

A Message To My Unborn Daughter: (3 Rules)

1. Always have cab-fare… your homegirl aint cab-fare… she is sleepy and not answering the phone. Cursing her out wont help.. google a taxi.. or a flying car.. or whatever yall got in the future.

2. There is no such thing as “just one drink”. He know’s it, and I know it. You have my genes and (hopefully) my tolerance for whiskey. Pick one drink and stick to it. Make him feel like a moistened vagina for not drinking twice as much as you. If the vibe gets uncomfortable sit like mechanic with your elbows on your knees and bring up baseball statistics. If he knows… he just lost his chub.. if he dont.. tell em you only bang real men who know baseball statistics. Win Win.

3. Backrubs are how douche bags make babies. I cant see the future… but i know there are douche bags there. Know why? Because bitches be getting backrubs. Look at that man.. you can smell his cologne (or Spacely Sprocket Mist future cologne or whatever). Does he have shoulder length hair, a handlebar mustache, and an all white outfit… nope… he dont.. so he aint a fucking masseuse. He is a filth monger who will unhook that bra faster than you can say President Jaden Smith. Look at him… now imagine him winking at his homeboy while he tells you he dont have money for pampers hanging up on you, and making it rain bitcoins down at whatever passes for a tittybar in the future. Probably got robot fuck dancers. Hope i live to see that.

Love Dad,

PS… no you cant borrow my flying car. In my day you had to drive on the road and ride bicycles and shit.