For those unaware, Spin magazine did a cover story on Odd Future. I somehow managed to get interviewed by the writer, Julianne Sheppard -- given the nickname J-Rock by me, just now -- and while at the photo shoot for the cover, she asked me to step into some of the pictures. It just so happened that they ended up using one of those for the cover.
The one they chose had everyone covering their face, and in the corner you can see my forehead exposed. At the time I thought nothing of it, but it turns out I was in for a surprise. Since the issue came out, my forehead has been catapulted to superstar status.
"Stupid people are ruining America" is probably the smartest thing I've heard Herman Cain say. Unfortunately, I believe he belongs in that group.
When I first saw this guy on TV, I thought they'd let some ignorant old black dude on TV talk shit about politics. Once I found out he was running for the presidency, however, all I could do was shake my head.
Herman Cain reminds me of the old black guys who sit in front of Starbucks or hang out at the barbershop and just talk crap all day. They are mad at the world for no reason, and 97 percent of the time have no idea what the fuck they are talking about. The way I see it, Herman Cain has become the spokesperson for those people.
I wanted to write a poem, but I decided to let my Asian amigo Matt write it for me. (He's really Mexican.)
There was a brief period, a few months back, where I disappeared from my everyday life. Neither my family nor friends had any idea of my whereabouts. What happened was that I started a dubstep cult.
As unlikely as it may seem, I am one of the greatest dubsteppers on the face of this planet. But few people have actually witnessed my unbelievable moves because I move so fast that nobody's eyes can keep up -- they can't comprehend what they've just seen.
One time a guy's neck just exploded.
My original intentions were not to start a cult; in fact, how the cult came to be was very unusual. I was in line at Target, buying lotion and chips when I got a phone call. I didn't feel like answering it, so I just let it ring.
If you read my first column, you know I'm part of a TV show called Loiter Squad, which will be on Adult Swim. Recently Tyler, the Creator and I accidentally trolled the media in Orlando while filming a skit there. Actually, it was more a matter of gossip spreading around the city.
Let me explain: The skit was a spoof on the Williams sisters, and we were supposed to shoot on a closed set at an Orlando tennis park. We had to get clearance, so a guy on the crew named Knate, who handles that stuff, went earlier in the week to fill out the paperwork. When the park's manager asked why we needed a closed set, Knate tried to answer him without giving away too much information, so he told him the skit had something to do with Venus and Serena Williams.
Over the past few weeks I've taken an interest in this new artist in the game. I'm not usually big on underground rappers, but a friend of mine was listening to this guy, and when I heard the beat drop and this man spitting some cold lyrics on the mic, I was instantly compelled to nod my head and feel this man's struggle.
A lot of people have not heard of him yet, but I feel within the next 50 years he'll be the hottest rapper out. He is to the rap game what Kwame Brown was to basketball.
His name is Young Gunshot, and I was lucky enough to run into him on the outskirts of Miami, when he was filming a music video for his slammin' song "Gunshot Wit It." It had never happened to me before, but when I met him I was starstruck and almost fanned out.
He's a pretty cool guy, but I could barely understand anything he was saying because of his heavy Rhode Island accent. (Photos of Young Gunshot below.)
In a recent column I introduced everyone I was touring with, but I left out Heathcliff -- the co-tour manager and publicist for Odd Future -- on purpose because I needed a whole column to give everyone the rundown on how badass this guy is. He is one of the least intimidating people in the world but walks around every show wearing a full Adidas tracksuit, no shirt and a gold chain to let people know he doesn't take shit from anyone.
After the show in Vancouver, I was hanging out with Heathcliff when two guys walked up to us, asking to get on the tour bus, to kick it with the group. These guys were all weird; they looked like 40-year-old pedophile hippies. Heathcliff told them to get lost, and naturally they took offense. They began to walk away and talk shit at the same time. One of them claimed he was a blacksmith and threatened to chop us up with his sword.
There's no way to sugarcoat this, so I'm just going to be blunt. I have been observing people over the years, and after very little research and lots of assumptions I have come up with three types of people you can't trust. I am merely informing you so you can defend yourself against evil.
Notice that you never see these types of people together, because they already know not to trust one another. You don't have to thank me for the heads-up -- just thank me for not being one of the Wayans brothers.
For those of you who don't know, which would be everybody, seeing that I never mentioned it to anyone, I have been on the national U.S. tour with OF.
We are only two weeks in but there have already been a lot of "shit got real" moments. But I'll save those stories for another column. For now I will just give a rundown of everyone traveling with me.
Tyler: He tries to find the most popular drug in each city we go to. So far it has been meth.
Mike G: I am convinced he does not sleep, no matter what time it is: 6 a.m. or 3 p.m., he is awake. He's not human.
For a brief period I had a kid. A daughter. I didn't really tell anyone. For some reason people never asked who she was; I guess they assumed she was my sister or something.
How I managed to obtain a daughter was very normal, just about the same as anyone who had a kid they didn't give birth to. One day I was reminiscing about my life in elementary school and how much of an influence career day had on me. I decided that I wanted to return the joy that career day brought me to the elementary students of today. It's like a combination of motivational speaking and flex tweeting on a bunch of little kids. But in order for me to be able to unload all that wisdom, I first needed a child to enroll into the school.
Dr. Jasper Dolphin, a member of that one rap group known as The Odd Futures, is set to receive a medal of honor, the key to the city and the Nobel Peace Prize this week. Why? The outstanding deed he did for the community.
I was lucky enough to be in my Tae Kwon Do class across the street from where it all took place, and thus could see it firsthand. Mr. Dolphin was walking Fred, his pet chinchilla, in the rougher area of the city, where the thugs and scalawags hang out.