Why The Fuck Not?/ Good Night, Sweet Prince

This isn't as bad as I thought it would be. No one from the indie cred police came and knocked on my door when I did this, and after all, I am only three years too late to join in on the tomfoolery. But here I am, blog land! Hello, how are you? Yes, I'd love something to drink. What's that? No, just PBR then. Why thank you. Yes. No. Yes. Well, a state school. Whose MP3? Ah-ha, no I don't know that one. Semiotics? What? Jonathan Safran Franzen Lethem? fuck you and your fuckety fucking blog jokes! I'm out! But seriously, the whole reason I did this was to pay tribute to a giant in my world.

NIPSEY RUSSELL
1923(4?)-2005

A true genius. I discovered him in the summer of '86, right before that fateful Red Sox-Mets World Series that forever changed the course of my fandom, much to my New York friend's chagrin. But I digress. You made me laugh so hard in Wild Cats I almost forgot that I had been exposed to Goldie Hawn naked in a bathtub. You cajoled, you coerced, you got new band uniforms all because you were able to SELL THE LAST OF THE PEANUT BRITTLE! I became obsessed with you and laying dormant in the back of my mind for many years was the knowledge that someday we would meet and collaborate on quite possibly the GREATEST COMEDY ALBUM OF ALL TIME, called something like "Woops! Sheegalee Deegalee and Other Nuggets Of Nonsense!" or "Nips and Tuck" or even "TRAVIS and NIPSEY fucking KICK ASS!" (Japanese Import.) And I'm sad that dream was never realized. Even worse is the fact that you were under utilized by most of the powers that be in the entertainment industry, sans, of course, Mr. Conan O'Brien. Eddie Murphy, Steve Harvey, and especially Cedric The Entertainer owe you a huge debt of gratitude for paving the way. Thanks to all those who have offered their well wishes to me. You were awesome, Nipsey. Fucking awesome.