Let's talk about something incredibly seductive for a moment here.

A woman smoking.

Such a contradiction in terms because, honestly, I find smoking to be disgusting. But I've got to admit that there's times when the sight of a beautiful woman taking a drag off of a cigarette is just one of those powerful images that knocks me on my ass. Is it an oral thing? Am I subconsciously substituting a penis between her lips instead of that long thin cancer stick? I don't know. I doubt it, but I don't know.

Something about not just a woman smoking but anyone smoking, especially when they're alone, just says power. It speaks of a small rebellion, even if it's an inconsequential one. A solitary withdrawal and a strength inside. With no words at all, a long drag can say a deep, quiet fuck you from either the loner or the playful trickster.

With the exception of Mr. Live Fast, Die Young, you'll notice that the pictures I've used here are the classic image of a woman with a cigarette. Just holding it. One arm tucked around themselves, the other dangling the cigarette nonchalantly. Not taking a drag from it. What does that imply? What is the hidden symbolism there? What is that memetic idea that keeps us drawing from that well?

No idea, and again, I don't want to tear it apart. I'm not sure I want to find it's hidden meaning. I think I just want to enjoy it and be drawn into it's sway.

My first video for you today is titled "Smoking Doggy Stylie," and it's one of the hottest you'll ever see. It simply is just a woman laying over a bed, smoking, talking about smoking, and a man behind her, fucking her doggystyle and asking her about her smoking. You never see the man's face, and you don't need to. He'd only ruin it because the bewitching young woman absolutely commands your attention for roughly 13 minutes of your life that you'll gladly sacrifice to her. Hers is dark magic that inveigles you masterfully as she's bent over her altar performing her rituals. Click on that link only if you want to be captivated.

The next video, entitled "Nice smoking hand job" is far less enticing, but quite possibly could've been in it's original form. Somebody took another video, cut it down to a less than a minute clip, put a Tweet song about smoking over it and completely drained it of it's magic. The woman is in full swing ice blonde femme fatale mode, almost as much as the dark haired beauty in our first clip. I think the most fascinating aspect of this clip, the thing that makes me desperately want to see it's original iteration is complete disinterest she seems to hold for the man's cock that she's jerking off. Like I said, something about the cigarette, if smoked right, isolates you majestically. It puts you in a place that others are desperate to get to, even if it is completely damaging.

Now, that's not to say that, like everything, smoking can't be done wrong, because oh  yes, it can:

Seriously, seriously wrong.

"A pink lung is a wasted lung," an old coworker of mine always used to tell me. He was 22 and couldn't run without nearly passing out and coughing up green shit the size of a catcher's mitt. His teeth were bright yellow and his breath smelled like nuclear waste. He started smoking when he was 12, given his first cigarette by his father. His mother smoked when she was pregnant with both him and his sister, he emphatically stated. And besides, "when I die," he told me, "I want to be sick, not healthy." I probably should've respected his fierce independence and his quite frankly American right to be that spectacularly stupid. But I won't bullshit you: I didn't then and I don't know. "You're probably going to get your wish in the next few years," I told him.

All I'm saying is: Ladies, I hope you don't smoke. Healthy is a good look, even if smoking is so undeniably sexy at times.

And until next time, here's to the smoke that gets in your eyes.

So there is a feed store down the road a piece from my house. And at this feed store is where we purchase everything and anything for our dogs. Also at this feed store, is puppies. You never know what they'll have when you go in there, and Mister knows that it is a bad badddd thing for me to accompany him to the feed store, for I am a sucker for puppies. Not just a regular ol' sucker, but a big, fat, mushy baby-talkin' sucker when it comes to puppies.

And I went with him the other day when the fish truck was to be there . . (I wanted to see what we would be stocking our lake with) - yeah, that's what I told him but I really wanted to see if they had puppies, and the poor sack believed me.

And they had puppies. And I quickly swooped one up and carried him outside and claimed him as my own. Above, is a picture of said puppy. He's a bloodhound/boxer - yeah, he'll be a fucking horse when he's grown and I love that !

Mister just dropped him head and shook it and let out a few heavy sighs. He knew, he knew it was a mistake to bring me along. Ha! I don't care, I like puppies. That store also happens to be the same place that I acquired Jerry two years ago. And Jerry is the fucking poo, he's a great dog.

So yeah, I named him Hank. And I have been questioned whether or not I named him after Hank Williams, Jr. Oh pah-lease, no. If I was going to be naming him after a Hank, it would not be a Hank that had a Jr after his name. No, Hank Sr is, was, and always will be, the shit.

But anyhow! No, Hank is not named after a Hank Williams. He just looks like a Hank.

And today, on my day off, I'm trying to potty train him, and he's being retarded about it. Jerry was pretty much no problem to break . . but this one? Shit, he just don't get the concept of shitting on a particular spot that I've made out for him. I've even demonstrated this entire process for him, but he just doesn't get it.

Y'all have any ideas . . tips . . suggestions . . on how to break a shittin' ass puppy?

By that time, I was hooked on West Coast Gangsta rap, listening to N.W.A., Warren G, Dr. Dre, and even underground cats like Lil' 1/2 Dead. I discovered 2Pac much later too late.

Anyway, I have to tape every Yo! MTV Raps episode on our pre-owned Mitsubishi VCR, cos I'm not allowed to stay up till 2am when the show airs on Dutch MTV. That's the time when Paul King still was a VJ, boys and girls. The next day, I'm screening all the videos that came on the night before while the AUDIO OUT plug on the VCR is connected to the AUX IN on the stereo... Yes, I was recording the audio of the music videos onto a tape, so I had fresh beats when I was riding my bike to school every day. 10 miles to school, 10 miles back. That's when I heard 'Big Poppa' for the very first time. I was an instant East Coast fan after that... I dubbed my home made mixtapes and sold them at school. My first hustle. The rest is history...

11 years after God needed Christopher Wallace by his side (after listening to 'Suicidal Thoughts'* I scratched heaven and changed it to) his death, they made a movie about his life, which I'm dying to see:

*Excerpt from 'Suicidal Thoughts', used without permission of the publisher. ( :

"When I die, fuck it I wanna go to hell
Cause Im a piece of shit, it aint hard to fuckin tell
It dont make sense, goin to heaven wit the goodie-goodies
Dressed in white, I like black tims and black hoodies"

“Stupid,” he taunted me from across the room. “You need to stop looking all dumb and learn to start acting like a girl. You need to look like this!”

He walked over, and shoved the CD cover in my face.

Yes, the infamous Doggystyle cover.

The implication - that I was to emulate the sexualized bitch (literally!) depicted on the cover, reduced to a pair of shapely haunches for the pleasure of the males in my surrounding area - made me shake with disgust. To this day, I have never listened to Doggystyle in full, nor have I allowed a copy of the CD to stay in my line of sight.

Sometimes I wonder how different I would be today if my parents hadn't shielded me so from pop culture images. (Really, I probably hadn't ever seen that Doggystyle cover until a couple of years ago.)

O comedie dementa, care arata, inca o data, (daca ar mai fi fost nevoie) cat de important e sexul intr-o relatie (si nu numai-simpla aparitie a cuvantului " fuck " in titlu te face sa vrei sa-l vezi). Prezinta povestea a 5 cupluri, exact asa cum se desfasoara, pe capitole (prima intalnire, preludiu, sex..etc). Fiecare cu problemele lui, care de care mai ciudate si mai amuzante, totul invartindu-se in jurul actului sexual, si al scopului principal in viata: "getting laid". Filmul recunoaste pe fatza, ca pana la urma, oricum ai da-o, totul la sex se rezuma. Faza marfa e ca reuseste sa faca asta intr-un mod extrem de amuzant, de-a dreptul hilar pe alocuri. Desi filmat cu un buget redus, avand ca locatii doar 5 dormitoare diferite, ramaine o mostra de umor canadian de cea mai buna calitate, si evidentiaza inca o data ca nu banii in exces fac un film sa fie mai bun. .....Acum, daca kiar vrem sa gasim si minusuri, unul este din start evident: daca, de exemplu asteptati ca Diora Baird (singura cu adevarat" Bucata" de acolo) sa arate tzatzele, ei bine, va spun eu ca asteptati degeaba, n-o s-o faca, indiferent cat de aproape pare a fi de fiecare data!!! Oricum, daca kiar va obsedeaza, va curm eu suferinta... (Diora Baird nude-click aici) ...in rest, numai de bine-vedeti filmul!!!                 VIEW TRAILER

the bastard birds wouldn't stop scattering when i'd try to take their picture. we have 7 or 8 hummingbirds that invade the feeders daily. they love to dive bomb each other. it makes for great entertainment.

i have a few cairns in my rock garden. this one is the biggest. i'm planning to go out this weekend in search of bigger! and better! sandstones.

bubba decided to sing me a song. he's a pathetic big ol' baby. and a dick slinger.

look! last year's christmas lights! yeah, we're gearing up for the festivities early this year . . that's my excuse anyhow.

i like shiny things. i gave her a good washing . . then had a wet t-shirt contest. um, with myself. i won!

this is, in no way, basset hound shit. you can trip over and get lost in a pile of basset shit . . but this, this looks like maybe deer shit? i nearly picked it up, thinking it was dog food.

so i got this plant a few years back, when it was like 2 inches tall. it's name is alford, and it's leaning, as you can see. yes, that is a stock pot. it served it's purpose wonderfully, but alford outgrew it so i had to transplant it into something even bigger. this always scares me because i kill fake flowers. plants and flowers don't generally like me. but this, alford, he does.

look! he's in his new pot, and back in his spot in the kitchen. and he doesn't lean anymore.

aaaargghh, motherfuckers. that is all.

The position in which the female lies on her back and completely exposes her vulnerability and ability to be dominated and accepts entry from in between her legs as well as company in most of her personal space. For a woman to prefer this position, not only would she have to be lazy, but also in need to be comforted by someone she would allow in her personal area. By having sex in this position, a woman would have to completely and submissively give up on any boundaries of chemistry between her and her partner. She would no longer be able to feel uncomfortable towards that partner. Once you have been in a certain place on a woman, according to her feelings, you never left that place. The same way a woman cannot turn off the maternal chemistry of her child because she carried him/her inside of her, in yet what is an even more personal space. After having carried a child there, a woman is bound to the feelings of knowing that that child has been that close to her for such a long time. In the same way, when a man causes a woman to submit to this position, he establishes a life long connection and authority to re-enter in the future.

Doggystyle

The position in which a female is bent over and accepts entry from behind. This position is one that not only gives up personal space, but one that gives up power. The female is turning her back on her partner in full trust and allowing him to do as he wishes, without visually monitoring what is going on. Submission of the rear completely relinquishes control and gives the reverence of control to that partner. Think of the control you submit in a barber chair while allowing your hair to be cut from behind. You are willingly ranking that person as someone who knows what they are doing and has the right to do so in a manner that they please. The fact that this is sex and not a haircut also means that she is giving up this control for his pleasure and not her own, even if she is pleasured. So what can be said about the woman who prefers this position? She likes to be completely controlled and handled for someone else's use. She knows of her ability to give reverence and praise and her own ability to do this appeals to her.

Ride em' cowgirl (woman on top)

The position where the female is on top of her partner. This allows the female to physically express through body language, her mood and create her own experience. While undermining the man she is free to assume control and display her physique and rhythm. Basically, she allows the man to "provide the dick" while she is free to expresses and pleasures herself without restraint. The same way a woman home alone will turn on the music and dance around exotically. The woman who prefers this position likes to be in control of the situation. She could also be somewhat selfish. This is the type of girl who is self-assured, will go out and have fun by herself, and does not give any one person the right to experience all her fun with her. She also would not have a problem cheating on her boyfriend and not feeling bad about it.

Just one of them kinda posts . . .

I rarely get a weekend off, unless I request it which I don't. I know where I stand on the totem-pole that is seniority at work, and thusly, I get stuck on weekend shifts more often then not (which is okay). But, BUT! They gave me Saturday off. Do they pity me much? I accepted it happily since Saturday is supposed to be the best day of the weekend anyhow. No humidity. 85 degrees. No clouds. Helll-ooo ! So my mom jumped at the opportunity to have me and the husband work for her on Saturday, since "I'm off an' all". Sure, why not. I'll put your building together. You'll pay me a hundred bones, too? Sure. And you'll feed me dinner? Sure. And you'll supply the beer? Sure, but don't do that until we're done . . or we'll never get done.

:: :: ::

School is going swimmingly for the child. She's a big, bad fourth grader. No more primary classes. No, she gets to change classes now . . and has a locker - with a lock, mind you. She hit the big time, I tell you. I'm glad she's a lover of school. She brings home her Kentucky history book nightly so that she can read and do the tests after each chapter. It's not required . . she thinks it's fun.

:: :: ::

I hate shaving. I loooathe having to shave - one of the few reasons why I dislike summer. I'm just glad I have to wear pants at work, because I am not a daily shaver of the legs. I'll do it on my day off where I'll more than likely wear shorts . . but working days? Psh, let them babies grow. The Mister doesn't understand though. He'll ask, "How come you'll make sure the hoo-haw is plenty smooth on a daily basis, but the legs miss out?" Priorities, baby. Priorities.

:: :: ::

I'm not pregnant this month. Again. The child keeps up with that sorta thing . . asking me if I've started my period and such, and if I'm a day late she'll persistantly remind me to take a pregnancy test. I don't, because it ain't going to happen, child. "Can I take it for you?" she asks.

:: :: ::

My birthday is in exactly three months. And my mom has already started up with birthday party plans. Um, I'm not eight. I don't need it. I don't want it. "But we'll invite everyone over and have a good time!" Uhh, no. My idea of a good time does not include my mom and my dad . . and his wife in the same room. No, I don't want a party. I don't need a party. Just give me a bottle of Tequila and I'll be a happy Sam. Let me drink away my birthday.

:: :: ::

I suppose we're having puppies again. I shoulda taken Bob Barker's advice (is he still alive?) and had Polly fixed because she got loose the other day. And wandered on over to Bubba, who took care of her. Many times. He is also her dad. *sigh* I shudder at the thought.

:: :: ::

Have a great weekend, folks.

And away we go:

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Thats all I can think of. Now lets watch those ratings soar...

[dailymotion id=xjmke]

Video Clip : Gin and Juice

Singer : Snoop Dogg

"Banged this chick Monday at camp in Florida. As i was hitting it doggy style on the corner of the bed I b***** a n** and accidentally pushed her off the bed face first onto the floor.

Pos bueno, un post que iré actualizando con algunos nombres importantes, tal vez esenciales, de este estilo musical. Si queréis alguno copiarlo para vuestro estilo favorito, ya sabéis. Empezamos con un clásico:

Snoop Doggy Dogg

Bien, en esta foto de Snoop vemos básicamente lo que es el G-Funk: playita, verano, zorras y vacileo. Lo cual en música se traduce en sintetizadores, sonido californiano, bajos gordos made in Dr. Moog y tal. Snoop Dogg es un pavo que empezó rapeando allí en su barrio y era un don nadie, un tirillas que hacía gracia por la voz atiplada que tenía. Pero un día lo vio el Dr. Dre, que viene a ser el gran ojeador del rap americano -o solía serlo-, que por entonces era DJ y productor del mejor grupo de la escena del momento, NWA (Niggaz with attitude).

Resulta que Dre estaba preparando un disco en solitario, y como le gusta la forma en que rapea Snoopy, pues le dice que colabore en un tema. Al final resulta que al Dre le gusta MUCHO cómo rapea y prácticamente se hacen el disco a pachas. El disco en cuestión es The Cronic, de 1991. The Cronic es un exitazo en tiendas y Snoop comienza a grabar su primer disco, que se titulará Doggystyle. Doggystyle sale a la calle en 1993 y va directo al número uno de todas las listas americanas: es un discazo, una colección de hits uno detrás de otro, un clásico del género.

Doggystyle (1993)

Cuando más está vendiendo Doggystyle y Snoop está triunfándolo en gordo, llega la ruina. La vida en la calle le pasa factura: le detienen por posesión y tráfico de drogas y por implicación en un asesinato. El efecto mediático, obviamente, hará que Doggystyle venda más, pero también que no pueda grabar más, y que no pueda salir de gira. Vienen dos años de juicios, de los cuales al final sale casi limpio. Cuando acaba todo, se pone a grabar su siguiente disco, Doggfather.

Tha Doggfather

También es de recalcar que en estos dos primeros álbumes su nombre "oficial" es Snoop Doggy Dogg. Cuando rompa contrato con la discográfica de Dre en busca, cómo no, de más pasta, se verá obligado a cambiar el nombre y pasará al que actualmente conocemos y le ha quedado, Snoop Dogg. En definitiva, Tha Doggfather es otro discazo, muy en la onda del The Cronic de Dre más que en la del propio Doggystyle, que es un G-Funk más cercano al disco (parecido al del grupo Paris) que al P-Funk (George Clinton, Parliament). Es un disco a grandes ratos más relajado, más sereno, más serio. Sin embargo, Doggystyle seguirá siendo el disco para llevar en el coche a toda hostia mientras se pasea uno buscando golfas por las playas de Long Beach durante muchos años.

Después de estos dos discos y del cambio de discográfica, y también ayudado por el efecto mediático de su personaje (un fenómeno a estudiar), Snoop cambia su estilo. Bueno, no lo cambia, pero empieza a mezclar, a hacer también rap de la costa este, a hacer escarceos con el Dirty South, etc. Por eso, como lo que nos interesa es el G-Funk, nos centramos en estos dos primeros álbumes, Doggystyle y Doggfather. Desde luego que sigue habiendo temas puramente westcoast en sus siguientes álbumes, pero no son puro gfunk en su totalidad.

¿Y cómo dices que suena?

Snoop Doggy Dogg - G-Funk Intro

Snoop Doggy Dogg - Tha shiznit

Snoop Doggy Dogg - It ain't no fun

Snoop Doggy Dogg - Tha Doggfather

Snoop Doggy Dogg - Up jump tha boogie

Snoop Doggy Dogg - Groopie

¡Otro día más, amigos!