I have to say that this has been one of those weeks where I fantasize about having enough money to wall myself away from the world and do drugs and desserts until I die. So today, I was trying to remember something/someone music-related that made me laugh when I recalled this interview with O.D.B. on MTV where he pulled up to the welfare office in a limo to pick up his check. I’m not going to parse out the man’s ethics late on a Friday when I’m counting the seconds until my first Mexican Martini. But he was a hilariously interesting character, both for having more aliases than a C.I.A. passport and in his fairly adamant refusal of most social graces. His lyrical abilities had a miraculous Wesley Willis quality about them, somehow managing to penetrate our reality from a galaxy far far a way and usually delivered like a gravel mouthed old dude yelling from a cracked cellar door. And just to make myself smile that much wider I absolutely had to dig up my favorite Dirt McGirt couplet:
“You can call me dirty, and then lift up your skirt
And you want some of this dirty, god made dirt and dirt bust yo ass”
How did this work? The lyrical rhythm is pausing and parenthical (oh yeah, and dirty bust yo ass, son), but it still sounds amazingly stammered out. A great man has been taken from us while my list of ungreat ones that should go in their stead remains ignored. I guess God needs all the good people to work in the Angel mines.
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