When my mind is cloudy. I skate..not like this, but i skate to get it out
and dream a bit. man. just get there.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
phew!
whatta week.
lotsa werk... it is not easy, but
there is a new track up at the myspace available for download until the
next bwlp February 2010 issue comes out on Monday: big blac.
Come Winter has a slew of songs just for the ladies on it...
this one is dedicated to my moms.
about moms.
earth shattering? no. but groovy? yeah, i think....
also in the upcoming issue, head nodding, thoughtful prose, supreme stylists, all new
grizzy isht. yet sophisticated in the way you have come to hear us.
oh yea, Come Winter is a little late,..but that's 'cause it's got some really nice stuff on it that needed a little more tlc..
(don't we all?)
soon.
-b.p.p.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
from bpp's zine slash graphic novel: Laws of Late
due this spring from our own Aphenomen Publishing. Here's an excerpt:
Chapter 8: Devo, Insanity’s Patron Saint.
My cousin Helga, remarkably beautiful despite her name, spoke highly of my uncle Devo. “I never had a dad so good,” she’d spurt at the oddest of times. I thought she might be a little touched.
She and I were apprehended once. Ever the magician, I made a pack of Boston Baked Bean candies disappear from my hands to a more comfortable location inside my rescue-orange goose down jacket. That is, after rounding an aisle in a 7-Eleven where my Auntie Denise worked. She was off this day. Effie was the hunter and I was set for captured game as I nudged Helga towards the door suggesting it was time to leave.
“Ah, HA, thieves...” he cut with conviction grabbing the scruff of my coat. His hand dashed to the location of the noisy candy box, no GPS, and held it high; the world taking this all in.
“I never had a dad so good!” popped Helga to the angry clerk. Clearly she and Effie were not related so her comment offered a pay-per-view of imbalance shown on his face. But Effie was less easily derailed.
“You know,...I could have you arrested for shoplifting!” he dribbled. My eyes doed and Helga was defiant in a way that made it impossible for someone to stand trial. Effie must have been sure of it reassuming his merchandise and letting us go. But not before he assured us that we were never again welcome at his 7-Eleven.
“Thieves!” he broiled.
Effie’s torso visible over the counter became a stop sign in a simmering polyester jig-saw of green white yellow and red. Adding to my personal woe’s brick pile, “Your Auntie Denise will be hearing of this!”
Great.
I could hear the Plum trees within a 300 yard radius of her apartment, now vying to provide their finest branch for fresh whoopins.
Chapter 8: Devo, Insanity’s Patron Saint.
My cousin Helga, remarkably beautiful despite her name, spoke highly of my uncle Devo. “I never had a dad so good,” she’d spurt at the oddest of times. I thought she might be a little touched.
She and I were apprehended once. Ever the magician, I made a pack of Boston Baked Bean candies disappear from my hands to a more comfortable location inside my rescue-orange goose down jacket. That is, after rounding an aisle in a 7-Eleven where my Auntie Denise worked. She was off this day. Effie was the hunter and I was set for captured game as I nudged Helga towards the door suggesting it was time to leave.
“Ah, HA, thieves...” he cut with conviction grabbing the scruff of my coat. His hand dashed to the location of the noisy candy box, no GPS, and held it high; the world taking this all in.
“I never had a dad so good!” popped Helga to the angry clerk. Clearly she and Effie were not related so her comment offered a pay-per-view of imbalance shown on his face. But Effie was less easily derailed.
“You know,...I could have you arrested for shoplifting!” he dribbled. My eyes doed and Helga was defiant in a way that made it impossible for someone to stand trial. Effie must have been sure of it reassuming his merchandise and letting us go. But not before he assured us that we were never again welcome at his 7-Eleven.
“Thieves!” he broiled.
Effie’s torso visible over the counter became a stop sign in a simmering polyester jig-saw of green white yellow and red. Adding to my personal woe’s brick pile, “Your Auntie Denise will be hearing of this!”
Great.
I could hear the Plum trees within a 300 yard radius of her apartment, now vying to provide their finest branch for fresh whoopins.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
of the many, peep sadik
true b-boy stuff, we all gotta sketchbook...
you should get you old isht out and rock a few for a youngun' sometime.
right, each one teach one.
you should get you old isht out and rock a few for a youngun' sometime.
right, each one teach one.
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