Saturday, October 20, 2012

Will It Ever Stop? Yo, I Don't Know.

In honor of All Hallows Eve, Elephant on fire has risen from the dead!

One night only!

Possibly for another night after this!

No one knows!

I wrote an incredible rap song about coming back after such a hiatus, but it ended up being a word-for-word copy of Vanilla Ice’s “Ice, Ice, Baby”.

I’m not entirely sure how this ended up happening. It felt incredibly natural to describe “waxing a chump like a candle.” I could’ve sworn the words were my own. However, when I recited the song to my girlfriend (she’s real I swear), instead of hours of passionate love-making I assumed would occur as a result of the awesome power of flawless rapping, I was told I was a plagiarist. 

How could this be? Stealing sweet, sweet rhymes sure doesn’t sound like me.

Meth addiction and Yankee Candle collection sounds more like me.

I quickly thought of a scenario which was, in my mind, much more likely to have occurred.

Back in the late 1980’s, Vanilla Ice invented a crude form of time travel. It was at this time that he traveled to 2012, found the lyrics to the song on a napkin that I threw away at Wendy’s, and knew he found rap gold which would ultimately lead to fame and fortune. 

Then he drove to the suburbs, tried to kill Sarah Connor, and outsmarted Biff Tannen while riding a skateboard. 

After traveling back to 1990, he made millions after recording “Ice, Ice, Baby”.

What a dickhead.

Making me feel like I stole his rap.

Early nineties rap sensation, or murderous time-traveling cyborg? You decide.

After being told this was a less-than-likely event, I spiraled into a deep depression.

I spent my days in tears and my nights chasing the dragon.

This carried on for several months until I heard an older man describe his mustache as a “lip jacket”.

I laughed and laughed.

“Maybe I’ll finally write some blog posts again.” I thought.

“Don’t do that.  No one likes your blog.” said my mom.

Her words stung me like an angry hornet.

And that, my friends, is how Morgan Freeman invented cinnamon.

That is all, you should hear from me again.


Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Drumline Controversy

Back again bitches.

Thought I was gone for good? I can’t blame you, it’s been awhile. I would like to give you some incredible excuse for my absence, but the truth really isn’t that great. A few things happened…killed a guy, got off on a mistrial. Shot a guy in the leg, mistrial. Hit a cop car while driving drunk, arrested. Spent a month in San Quentin, escaped.

Nothing too fancy.

Also I was briefly married to Kathy Ireland. We argued a lot about vases.

Anyway, none of the above incidents had anything to do with why I stopped writing this blog and why the internet and I aren’t speaking/making love anymore. 

The truth is I was doing a lot of drugs as a result of an argument I had with my brain. It went something like this:

Me: “You know, I caught Drumline on the USA Network the other day…I gotta admit, Nick Cannon really isn’t that bad of an actor.”

Brain: “Are you kidding me dude? That movie was terrible. The only thing worse than the movie was Nick Cannon himself.”

Me: “Are you sure you aren’t thinking of Joe Rogan?”

Brain: “I am definitely not thinking about Joe Rogan.”

Me: “Well…seriously…it was better than I thought it would be. You didn’t even see it. You don’t have eyes.”

Brain: “Sure technically I didn’t, but Optic Nerve told me all about it. From what he told me it sucked.”

Me: “Fuck you Brain. We both know Optic Nerve is an asshole. Remember that time he told you he saw Mick Jagger and it turned out to be an old lady? Or that shadow he said was a mugger? Optic Nerve is nothing but trouble.”

Brain: “I’ll have you know that Optic Nerve is a great friend of mine! We exchange information constantly! You wouldn’t know a good movie if it shot you in the face! Your mother is a beat hooker!”


It was at this point that I began huffing spray paint in the garage. Brain never knew what hit him. They say I was in a coma for a few months. In truth, a lot of good came from the experience. Brain and I made up. Also, I am completely drug free now. (To be clear: I still consider tobacco, alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, and crystal meth to be “mood enhancers”).  I’m like those “above the influence” ads they show on TV.
Drumline: A controversial film.

The really sour thing that came out of the huffing experience, apart from the acute brain damage, was that the internet stopped cutting me checks while I was in the hospital. I immediately contacted my attorney to discuss a wrongful termination suit. He started saying all kinds of bullshit like “imaginary contract”, “internet isn’t a single entity” and “I’m not your lawyer.” After that I stopped listening. It was clear that he didn’t have the stones to deal with the red tape. Anyway, until I work things out with the internet, I have to post to this website via guerilla strategies. Hopefully I can resolve things soon, because my 13 year old neighbor is no Sandra Bullock when it comes to hacking computers. (This is a reference to the movie “The Net” starring Sandra Bullock which was released in 1995).

If you have any ideas for making up with the internet, please leave them in the comments section. If you would prefer I give up, please state your reasoning in the comments section. If you have any good recipes for bananas foster, please leave it in the comments section.

That is all. You should hear from me again.