fun facts about the world

You may recall a few weeks back when I exposed some dangerous myths about crack, namely that it was bad for you. Well, my dear readers, it seems as though another drug demonized in the media is in fact better for you then sending text messages and emails. That drug, my friend is marijuana.

One of my "alert" friends emailed me this article from cnn.com about workers IQ levels during the day and what employees could do to maximize their mental abilities while at work. I can’t imagine any of this shit applies to geniuses like me (and you) but for the pedantic populous out there this is probably a huge breakthrough. Like when they changed the Walk/Don’t Walk signs to the hand and the man, a generation of illiterate people could finally cross the street.

Here is the specific quote I was fussing about, followed by some other quotes and then some semblance of a shit talking summary .

"Don’t be a slave to technology: In more than 80 clinical trials, Dr. Glenn Wilson, a psychiatrist at King’s College London University, found that workers distracted by phone calls, e-mails and text messages suffer a greater loss of IQ than if they’d smoked marijuana.

The IQ of those juggling messages and work fell by an average of 10 points — equivalent to missing a whole night’s sleep and more than double the four-point fall seen after smoking pot. The drop in IQ was even more significant in men."

Basically this guy is saying "if you are stupid, only do one thing at a time." I could have told you that. Here is some more insight.

"Lack of sleep also results in reduced productivity and increased errors."  Big Gulps, huh? See ya later.

"If you’re feeling sluggish midday, boost your serotonin with a small dose of carbohydrates, such as fruit or an energy bar." I’m seeing some coded language here. Clearly carbohydrates means "uppers", fruit means "cocaine" and energy bar means "high-grade meth." The sentence makes much more sense now.

This next quote, once again taken from the article at cnn.com, suggests that America will really not be able to compete in an increasingly global job market, despite their impeccable hygiene.

"Dr. Robert Goldman, author of "Brain Fitness," suggests reading challenging books, doing puzzles — even combing your hair and brushing your teeth with your other hand."

We went from natural selection and survival of the fittest to this shit?

As some half-retards momma always said: "stupid is as stupid does."

*Note my excellent photo editing.

http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/Careers/10/14/brain.power/index.html

The other day I was talking to someone about how I felt burdened by my past at times. What I mean is that I feel as though my present actions are in some way (subconsciously, unconsciously, drunkenly) manipulated internally by my (ir)rational thought that there is some set way for me to respond in any given situation as dictated by those around me having expectations based upon my previous actions and behavioral patterns.

I mean, when you roll two dice you know it ain’t going to add up to 15. Unless you have those dice from "Magic: The Gathering", in which case nothing I say can help you much.

Anyway, I mention all this because I feel a need to unburden myself of all of this emotional baggage which has become so difficult to check post 9/11. I’ve had this sense that I really need to go live in the hills outside of London for a couple of months to try and establish a few basic things about my personality. I also like to drink Tennants Super, which comes in the purple tin, ya jakey cunt!

I will now go on one of my trademark tangents, so if you thought this was going to be a blog where I get all vaginal and talk about the inner workings of my attic, you are mistaken.

When I was in England the first time, I spent a lot of time drinking. England has much more of a drinking culture than we do here in the US, which suited me just fine. I always found our laws regarding alcohol to be rather silly. In these same pages a couple of months ago, I opined that it was just a little ridiculous that you and your child bride could have a kid at 18, but you cannot even enjoy a nice pint. It baffles me.  Anyway, some of the awesome laws they have are that you can drink in the streets and on the subway and the police don’t have guns.  To me this meant that no matter what happened, all I had to do was run away with no fear of being shot in the back.

Anyway, my man Pneumatic told me at some point when I got back to the dorms (Carlos and I were staying with our manager at some music college where he was taking a semester abroad) with my beer that Tennants Super was really only meant for alcoholic homeless people (I suppose that’s the same role Nighttrain and Thunderbird play here in America) and that people would look at me funny for drinking it. But I drank it anyway. By the end of my trip, the English kids were all telling me (in their accents) "Rox, you’re an animal." It should be stated that your boy can drink. I’m not one of those "chug a couple beers" cats, I’m more about the slow grind starting right after I wake up and then burning the midnight oil (on days when work doesn’t get in my way). I have never in my entire life ever met anyone who came close to my level of stamina regarding drinking and I chill with mad ‘holics.

Here is some "research" I unearthed about Tennants Super. You’ll remember I also spoke about the difficulty of writing beer reviews, but this bloke has clearly got it down. Some highlights of his review.

" The Can Says: "Very Strong Lager""

"The can appeared to be sturdily constructed and in this case appearances did not prove to be deceptive."

"It can only be described as a cross between dog shit and mouldy cheese with a hint of sweetness." -note how English people love them some "u."

"…..drinking this brew should be near the top of anyones list of things to do before they die."

"Tennents is best drunk cold or when your already drunk to mask the taste."

"However, you do not drink Tennents for the taste-you drink it because it’s Tennents. It’s a statement saying "hey look at me i’m on a mission to get drunk""

http://gk007a0336.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/tennents.htm -just in case you think I’m making this shit up.

Now if you have any sense at all, you respect and admire M.O.P. The Mash Out Posse ("niggas think M.O.P. stands for mop and shit.") have been putting it down very, very hard for the past 10 or so years, repping Brownsville, Brooklyn about as hard as Jesus repped Christianity, which is pretty hard.

I’ve heard some Internet rumors over the past few months that M.O.P. was poised to release an album that should have come out shortly after they signed to Roc-a-fella almost two and a half years ago. Anyway, it’s looking like it’s actually going to come out on Tuesday October 18th. The new album title has something to do with "St. Marxmen", because they stay on 8th street in the east ville.

I’ll try and give you some semblance of what how great and incredible it is when i hear, but I’m sure it will be great and incredible. After all Warriors was basically the best album ever, so how could this album possibly be bad? It can’t.

Here are some other really good groups who make great music.

1- The Beatnuts -all their albums are pretty fucking great and they are dope live in NYC. I can’t vouch for ya hick city.

2- The Alkaholiks -Some great songs in their discography. I always felt as though Tash was a much better MC than J-Ro, but that’s OK. They were a big influence for me in terms of black-8balls. Do any of my readers know what a black 8ball is? Just comment "no" and I’ll send cash. I swear on your girls pussy.

3- Gangstarr -The definition of everything that’s right about rap music. Simple straightforward and to the point. If only someone could get Guru to show a little more emotion from time to time. It’s important to remember that they spell it with two "r’s" -now thats gangsta!

That’s all for now. I’m sure their are other good groups in the history of hip-hop (EPMD for one, Mobb Deep for two) but they eluded me when i started this sentence and I don’t want to go back. Straight ahead ROX they call me.

There was a big earthquake in Pakistan and lots of people died. It makes me feel somewhat better about my problems, but not much.

Anyway, shit has just been incredible lately. Awesome. Things have been going really well for me in these past few weeks. Actually, I’m lying. Some shit has been straight awful and other things have managed to not blow up in my face (advance pun).

So after the Yankees horrible loss last night to a team from California (the land of people who can’t function in society. "dude, that’s harsh." "So is life, don’t get stabbed.") and a fucking 22yr-old pitcher, I was pretty down on the team. Hey A-rod, way to ground into a double play in the fucking 9th. That’s why you make the big bucks! I take back all my "MVP" chants earlier in the season.

Anyway, so if that wasn’t bad enough, on Sunday the Saints were on the "ouch my ass hurts" end of a 52-3 loss. Whatever, "this sort of thing happens", you may say. Well why the fuck was Deuce still in the game when they were down 5 scores?? Oh, word, I forgot how difficult it was to sustain a season ending injury on the sidelines. Ask Carlos, I called that shit right before it happened. I still think we should get Roodee Jewlee in there to discipline the players a la Diallo.

So last night after the Yankees loss, me and Alex Sosa are driving down 6th ave. talking about this little dog that pisses on the floor and the state of daycare in Marble Hill. Then, all of a sudden there is a loud "boom" and I feel my face kinda go numb as the car fills up with this awful, thick acrid smoke. As we pull over to the side of 6th ave (right in front of the Hilton), coughing and confused, I see that the airbag had popped and, because my head was turned to the left, it caught me right in the ear.

Luckily neither Sosa or I were injured badly, but the right side of my face and head hurts and I am yet to regain hearing in my right ear, although the buzzing has began to quiet down a bit. Either way, there was nothing even remotely positive about that experience. The last time an airbag caught me in the grill, it at least saved my life. This time that shit was just redundant and painful. Fix the motherfucking potholes.

So everyone who knows how joyful and upbeat I normally am can appreciate how these recent developments have been super fucking awesome. Someone nominate me for VH 1’s "Best Week Ever."

On a lighter note, if you came through the show at Satelite, thank you very much. We raised some $$$ for Katrina, played some songs and no matter what anyone says, it wasn’t raining inside. Hey, if you got a copy of the album, why not hit us with some feedback at www.chronikill.com or just hit up the Chronikill profile on friendster. Nothing makes me feel better than compliments. Except crack, oxy contin, rubbing my testicles on velvet…well, okay, lots of shit is much better than compliments, but you get the point.

Yo, to all the ladies that came through, y’all looked mad good. I received numerous comments regarding the hot nature of all the females in attendance ("yo, who is that?", "how do you know her?", "are you sure you dated that girl?") You beautiful girls make us look good too. That shit is symbiotic. For word!

I’ll holler at y’all regarding the next jump-off (man I hate that term) which will be Thanksgiving weekend, barring death or fame. Until then, play my albums for your friends, and try and convince them that we are great and amazing. It shouldn’t be too hard.

Here are some flicks of kids being kids. Click on em and they turn into adults. It’s not pretty, but it sure is cute.

New Chronikill album coming soon. Beware the Ides of March. Fuck Saint Ides. Lets go New Orleans Saints, but not New Orleans PD.

www.chronikill.com -we’ve got flicks on you in the bathroom and they’re selling well.

So, I’m a little tired after staying up a little later than I would have wanted to watch the less than thrilling conclusion to the Yankees-Angels game last night, but I figured I would hip y’all to some of the fun facts that are running through my head right now.

First and foremost, I just want to let everyone know that I am still dismayed by the amount of stupidity in our society. Hardly an hour goes by that I don’t cringe while witnessing some criminal level of stupidity. I could delve further into this issue, but I won’t, for fear of looking stupid myself.

As I was looking through the NYPress today (or actually from Oct 5th - Oct 11th) I read the cover story about SuicideGirls. I was hoping that this was some sort of cult-movement, where girls were given information about how to commit suicide, not unlike that one episode of Law & Order where those kids parked on the train tracks and got hit by the train, not because they were suicidal, but because it told them when the train was coming on some suicide website. But there were other issues like on the job pressure too. Maybe an affair thrown in. You gotta love Law & Order.

Nope. SuicideGirls, by my best estimation is just some cheap website that convinced a couple of goth chicks that if they took off their clothing punk music would somehow be relevant. Either way, it was pretty entertaining and whatnot. (If my fucking co-workers would shut the fuck up and stop working, I may actually be able to focus on making a point here.) Anyway, these chicks are upset that their "opinions" have been deleted from the website, but the flicks of them are still up. I don’t really understand what the big fuss is, but maybe it was a slow week.

Another interesting article in the NYPress was one about being cut-off by the bartender. I’ve been in really touch shape at the bar plenty of times, and have never been cut-off in NYC. Once I actually fell asleep on my bar stool, and the bartender woke me up, and suggested that after I finished the pint I was drinking, I "get some fresh air." I continued to drink, sans fresh air, well after I completed the pint I was drinking and actually wound up vomiting out the window of my cab home as it crossed the 59th Street Bridge. While me and drugs share equal blame for that little mishap, I still think that if I had died or something like that, I could have sued the bar. Had I not been dead.

And there was another time when I was in Boston where the bouncer of the bar my friend and I were trying to get into claimed we were "too drunk" (obviously, if you can remember whats going on, you aren’t "too drunk") to enter. Then he wandered off and we entered anyway. As I was getting my pint of Sam Adams (once again, if I was "too drunk" would I be able to remember what beer I was drinking that night, three years later), the bouncer actually threw a quarter at the bartender to get his attention and try and have him cut me off. It didn’t work.

Fuck Boston!

Here are some things that happened.

1: Bush nominated Harriet Miers to the Supreme Court. Now you may remember my previous post where I pointed out the striking similarities between the Supreme Court and a Taco Supreme and opined that John G. Roberts is the same John G that raped and murdered my wife. The point is, this Harriet chick is mad ugly. She looks like this homeless lady I used to pass on my way to elementary school in the morning, sitting between cars and pissing, while screaming at the world. Is this really who we want to be on the Supreme Court?

I had speculated that Bush would pick someone who had close ties to him, but I didn’t imagine it would be this thinly veiled. He’s got a lot of gall, I’ll give him that. I mean, she was his personal lawyer for God’s sake. AND once this lady gave money to Al Gore. What a sucker move!

Either way, I’m hoping she won’t get confirmed because she seems to be a puppet in the making. I don’t know much about politics, but I sure like to draw on faces.

Tom DeLay, known to be a notorious cunt, was indicted on a couple of charges regarding some illicit campaign contributions and broken finance laws. It would be cute if he went to jail, but it ain’t gonna happen. Not with Terri Schiavo watching from heaven.

I was up on this a while back, when my people at NYTimes Magazine ran that story about "Black" Jack Abramoff. I have a picture of Abramoff up in my house where I wrote "I’m a hustler" on his forehead. It hasn’t done much to motivate me to steal money from native Americans, but by the same token, no one has won $5 by guessing who it is either.

In what can only be deemed as taking a few steps backwards, Seattle (famous for ??? The Supersonics?? Coffee?? The Space Needle?? I’m reaching here.) has passed laws that basically transform their strip clubs into Chemistry class.

As the AP, or something reports: "The council voted 5-4 to require that dancers stay 4 feet from patrons, and that the clubs maintain at least parking-garage brightness throughout the premises. Private rooms will not be allowed and patrons will be offered a tip jar, instead dealing directly with dancers."

"For far too long, men have tried to tell women what work they can do," added Councilwoman Jean Godden.

First off, "we" didn’t try, we succeeded. Second, who elected this bitch? Who was she running against, a cardboard cut-out of Hitler?? Clearly this bitch wants nothing more than to have screaming men throw money at her while she shamelessly gyrates in a red pleather thong. Instead she sits at home crying herself to sleep while the Pussycat Dolls song "Don’t Cha" plays, ironically, in the background.

Listen you dumb cunt, these broads are still going to be stripping, but now with regulations that actually hurt their chances at making decent money. I’m not putting money into a tip jar, unless it has a silky smooth ass I get to touch as I place it, with a gentle smack, into the jar.

Now are you,Councilwoman Jean Godden, going to hire these newly unemployed strippers to work for you, now that they’ve been "liberated" from "men telling them what work they can do"? I’m guessing you won’t.

See, stripping is a lot like being a garbageman in the sense that it’s not really a "first choice" career, except for girls with father issues. Therefore the type of people who go into those fields generally don’t have a lot of "skills" other than an ability, or willingness to deal with garbage, both human and traditional.

Either way, my plan to go to Seattle and become a stripper is fucking ruined, I hope you’re happy you Liberal Feminazi Curseword.