Richard Pryor, Drake & a Brick of Cheese | o3|19|2o17
[read along with the video]
**important: audio component was recorded before post was proof read, and it’s too late to re-record. won’t make that mistake again. yolo**
The time is 1:36am. March 19th. 2017.
I'm on the Northbound subway to Finch Station - reading the "YOU HOLLYWOOD FAGGOTS CAN KISS MY RICH HAPPY BLACK ASS" chapter of the Richard Pryor biography, Furious Cool, I shoplifted today from an Indigo I will not reveal. On my way out, I also grabbed Becoming Richard Pryor and Miles Davis' autobiography. 3 books I've previously owned, but sold to BMV at some point out of desperation. I've made a lot of mistakes out of desperation, and will continue to until it's my time to ride the elevator down to light my eternal cigar with Dante. Kinda like that shitty Drake video where he's smoking a cigar in the CN Tower elevator. I always thought that video should have just been him lip-synching whatever song that was along a time lapse of the Sky Dome roof closing, or opening. Trim the fat. Or like the Started From The Bottom video, where it should have just been him rapping in front of the billboard. Trim the fat. I love that song so much. The "wear all my chains, even when I'm in the house" line is fucking brilliant. My love for that song is probably why I'm so passionate about the video. And I'm allowed to insult the video, because I'm the first to admit most of my videos are dogshit. Well, maybe I'm not the FIRST to admit. I'm sure the regulars who scrambled for their phones, or jizz-layered keyboards to call me a fat faggot on Twitter every time one of my shitty videos aired on MuchMusic admitted it before me. Half glass full: without them, I never would have known when I was on MuchMusic. So...thanks? I don't think ALL of my videos are diarrhea. A few are cool. Ironically, my best solo video was directed by the same guy who produced Started From The Bottom. I won't say what video, or who director because I’m a man of mystery. But...Like Gandhi once said... “with every triumph comes a shitty UGod verse.” As much as I love the video, I can't watch it because I was advised to recreate|sing the sample to not fuck over the potential success of the video. The recreation turned out total morning breath, and completely stripped the song of the magic the original jizzed. Distracted by the noodle-melting visuals, and the feeling that this could be the home run to give me the win I fucking deserve - a home run I'm still swinging for - I put too much focus on avoiding a Weezer lawsuit, and zero focus on the fact I was stealing one of the most iconic logos from the most successful shoe brand of all time. For that reason, MuchMusic gave it zero rotation, and No More Words sleeps in the YouTube cemetery with the rest of my videography. I was|am desperate for a win, and desperately made a mistake by resigning the Weezer sample. And replayed the beautiful piano loop that drives my song with some shitty stock synth. Whatevs. I've made a lot of mistakes out of desperation, and will continue to until it's my time to ride the elevator down to light my eternal cigar with Ray Romano. Right now, I desperately want to get high, but pharmacies are closed at 2:14am. HEY! Believe it or not, I'm at the Pharmacy Road RIGHT NOW! Stopped at Pharmacy as I wrote the word "pharmacies". Maybe it's a sign. A sign that I should hop out and rob a Shoppers for their percs. Maybe not. They probably keep them in combination-locked safes because of irony-magnets with blogs like myself. Is that even irony? I don't know. Fuck Alanis Morissette. Besides, I'm at Warden - my stop. The Stitches Outlet is beautiful at 2:22 in the morning.
Today started amazing, then ended trash bag. Some might disagree since I have a knapsack filled with amazing books, thick-cut bologna, new hand soap and a brick of cheese. But. It was trash bag. I won't get into why because it would be unfair to a few, and I've already done my fair share of that. I'm gonna stop writing because my hands are cold, and I have 8 minutes left on my walk to McNicoll I'm going to spend thinking about my sins. Now you know where I live. Don't bother visiting without Pizza Pockets. Goodnight. *author's note: I wasn't going to post this as it has nothing to do with my original vision. I wanted to focus more on my shitty ending and talk about my current gloom and feeling like everything's a wrap. But. Maybe all isn't a wrap. I think tomorrow I'll enter HMode and rule the world. Yeah. That's what I'll do. The slob represents a butterfly on an octopus. A butterfly. On the head. Of. An octopus. Let the children die. 2:31am

















