from da' archives...September 22, 2006
Raised by an over-romantic, somewhat naive mother, i've lived all over the country and for some reason, i keep coming back here, 2 LAS VEGAS. I first arrived as a 10 year old on a visit 2 my dipshit father and his new wife and her young daughter. I did new year's with them downtown (tenacious and overcrowded) and enjoyed the local lifestyle of the desert away from the neon circus as well. there was a gritty-good homeyness 2 the local scene away from the strip and i dug it since day one. a couple years later, my mom's then-current beau was drafted into Legends in Concert as the most coked up and elvis-like elvis impersonator ever and we ended up in a sprawling 2 story abode in a nice ass suburban neighborhood, complete with a springy diving board on the massive pool/jacuzzi and a huge backyard...well needless 2 say, elvis' elvis-esque habits got the best of him and one balmy las vegas eve, upon throwing my mother stark-nekkid out of a hotel room and setting all of her clothes on fire, we were uhauled up and heading back 2 miami. just in time for me 2 hit a gangster-heavy bass driven palmetto junior high with a nice hard case of shellshock and my whole person changed forever.
7th grade i was shy and tho several girls dug me, i always found flaws within them or about them that soured any chance of me actually ever getting my penis wet. Two Puerto Rican chicks dug me that were so greasy and there hair so greasy and oily, i couldn't dig em back. one had oil popping from the acnes on her facial, the other had this hair likea spider web of car grease. A sheen mop of juicy curls. it wasn't my bag at 12, 13. last day at palmeto junior, a 9th grader who was smaller than me cracked me in the cheekbone with a combination lock cuz he had heard i called him a pussy.
my mother in horror of this road i was heading down, gathered abunch of my doodles and approached a magnet school about me bussing there day in and out. i was accepted. i'm not sure how, but i knew there was one of the heads of the art dept. that was diggin on my mom, so maybe she flirted extra hard or maybe she flat out blew him, i will never know the truth. what i do know is my art was ass. while @ southwood, in 8th grade, i was a total dork. i was wearing hair gel and making a wave of my bangs. i was rocking baggy pants, miami vice jackets and converse; i was never grasping that styles changes and evolved and thought that john hughes' versions of what teens are supposed to be like still rang true in the early 90's; we were both wrong. so, lonely as shit that year my grandma bought me a video camera and i began to make short films with an old friend (J) and then found another friend (JOKES) and so on. that led to a movie theater experience so impacting, it guided me all the way 2 realizing recently how fucking stupid i was all the way around. i have a friend who spent half the time i did and became an anethesiologist administering sleep with a mask making 200k on any given fiscal year, easy. i was a fool.
Ice Cube, vanilla Ice, and Tupac made me believe if u RAP, it is a straight shot to movie making and being IN; So i wrangled my two movie making buds and proceeded to make a demo; jokes had been writing poetry and converting em into songs and i'd just been laying in beds figuring out which words were rhymable and which shouldn't be used in a rap song; J was just writing whatever he felt.
JOKES title: love is an illusion
J lyric: Scornfully, i stroll down the street...
NOX: cat hat bat sat fat back shat ass tacks cast whack off cough loft shots smash
when the demo we recorded (jokes set it up in his hood with a guy who had produced a hit locally) was sounding ass (with my hall n oats samples and hours of unsuccessful pre-pro cuz we were clueless) when J decided the song was wrong as a first try, when my ego blew up and i went solo on the 3rd day in a studio EVER, when I went off and joined NOVA @ palmetto high (after splitting with first girlfirend and being rejected from film school @ south miami high) and jokes and j went to south ridge, when i was lost, i tried to gain acceptance and bring all worlds together and be cool with too many sorts and ended up being public enemy number one but without a big clock around my neck a yellow brim or even a little crack c-caine.
A bunch of guys heard i called them pussies and came for revenge.
I hid in the bathroom of Jenny Sweet's bedroom when they smashed up the windows to the house raining glass on Mike's little sister as she slept; I cried like a girl til i heard nova say 'u can come out now, pussy ass'
I decided to beg my estranged fuckhead father for a chance to live amongst them in the desert bliss.
So i walked into Palmetto one day with a bat and told the principal i was resigning from my desk wood and moving to where it wasn't so menacing.
by late 15, i was on my way back 2 vegas just in time for 11th grade in high school. my high school experience at valley was so fantastical, tho i missed miami and my boys, it sure felt nice. i met TYPHOON when i got there and we soon ran that school. all those valley fux that i still love with a special place in my heart can attest 2 that. those were the days. then a few years later, i came back after a brief recording stint in northern cali and dwelled right before college and was treated like an old vet and war hero/rockstar.
chicks were coming over to my mom's apartment trying to blow me while I watched scarface and I was freestyling with boosum in the sand and smoking ports in my room. then i pissed in my walk in and tried to hang myself after a jar of pills were ingested and downed with a bottle of vodka. i lived. i moved. i moved back. i moved. i moved back again.
why do i always come back???
it's always been good out here.
it's the only town where u can always find something 2 do any day any hour of day or night. i dig that. feeling lonely? a little blue? bored? get out and dig in. something is out there awake and awaiting u.
even if yer sanctuary is a burrito and a tall Jamaica at 4 in the morning on a tuesday. the local scene is like a small town. i'll give u some examples of how things work here. a woman moved in next door 2 our spot. i hooked her with my boys who sells cable and internet packages fer better promotions than the company itself. she got her cable on instantly and my boy even threw her a tv. i hooked him with a sale. i hooked her with cheaper cable. he hooked her with free tv. she may have hooked him with her lips on his penis. i don't know. i can't always be there. i also gave her the number 2 traditional pizza on desert inn and mojave. that place is bomb. (update: that plkace blows: sunset pizza on horizon ridge and verazano's on rainbow and flamingo tkaes the cake) she just got into town and already has cheap cable, a new tv, the bomby pizza. shit, that's how we do. now suppose she gets a job in a bank and i need a business account but have a bad standing with credit. she hooks me up. now the cat who hooked her with cable goes and gets a loan from her when otherwise he wouldn't have gotten approved. she pushes it thru..now, the cable dude lines her up with a drug dealer and now she has good shit being delivered 2 her house. she gives the drug delivery guy some pills. he takes those 2 his day job at a casino and hooks up his supervisor with the pills. the supervisor gives him the night off. and so on and so forth. there is a smashing trade system out here that if utilized 2 full potential could overthrow the local government it is so powerful . i love it here and no matter where i move, i always end up back in vegas. now the fucker is becoming overpopulated and a bunch of california fux have invaded and act like they can shit all over us. but they are forgetting the first rule of las vegas. do not burn the locals. it's right there in the book and film fear and loathing in las vegas by the late great hunter s. study up, u disrespectful tourist fucks. and TIP PROPERLY u slimey s.o.b.'s...
or u can end up out in the sand...savvy? ~Gabe Alberro
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