A Free Day. And, You’re Welcome.

Let me have this moment, please. Let it be known that I am, indeed a “leapling.” I was born on February 29, 1980. Wrap you head around that. Don’t get Leap Year? Here, this should clear things up….

In color, that is why my birthday happens once every four years. Still don’t get it?

Well, here are a group of Senior Citizens known as “Seniors Against Leap Year” who are trying to abolish the day all together. A corporate conspiracy to get one more day out of the working man? Pandora’s Box? Comedy?

What else do you need to know about Leap Year? Well, there’s a song. Or so says Child Fun.

Leap Year Song(Tune of Bingo)
There was a year called Leap Year,
And February was its name-o,
L-E-A-P Y-E-A-R,
L-E-A-P Y-E-A-R,
L-E-A-P Y-E-A-R,
And February was its name-o.

Go ahead, sing that song to a Leap Year baby and see if they’re still your friend afterwards. Try it.

See, I’ve done a lot of research on this today and realized one thing; we are really a bunch of pricks. We have an “Honor Society,” which is for us an only us. Do you have one, March 3rd? We also have shirts…

Fuck you, April 16th!

Think of me, today. Me and the “about 4 million” other people born on this day. We’re pretty special. We’re also convinced we’re better than you! Happy Leap Day!

.el sway

Memories From the Road

Hello, folks. Ben here.

As you may recall from previous mentions on this fine blog, me and the wife were on vacation in California last week. And, in a few short hours, I will be leaving NYC once again, this time in order to attend a wedding in New Orleans.

All of this traveling has reminded me of a darkly hilarious/excruciating episode that I witnessed in the Louisville airport about three years ago. Let me now relay this anecdote to you.

I was in line at the security checkpoint, and the individual ahead of me was a teenager very much in a “punk” phase (tight black pants, spiked hair, band patches all over a denim jacket, etc). This anarchic-looking youngster put his bag on a conveyor belt, and as it went through the x-ray, security personnel thought they saw a small knife. So, the bag was removed, and one of the security guys started to rifle through it. The first thing he took out was a bag of cds, which he removed and set to the side. I glanced at the pile, and the first one on the stack was Leftover Crack’s “Fuck World Trade”. On the cover was a picture of the second airplane hitting the World Trade Center.

The Shirt Off Our Back.

We have a shirt! And we’re making many more. Feel free to buy one, or to just congratulate us on our wonderful design. Planton fans, rejoice!

And for the ladies…

(see toolbar on right side for info on purchasing one of these fine garments) 

.el sway

Behind the Transition: You Can Get a Smack For This.

A few weeks back we took a look at a Leo Sayer “hit” which became a popular transition song at many of our shows. This week, we are going to go back to our roots. Well at least my, and possibly Tim’s, roots.

Eric Barrier and William Griffin, better known as Eric B. & Rakim, released one of the most influential and noteworthy hip-hop records in 1987, “Paid in Full.” It was, as they say, tight. I had it on cassette which makes me better than you. This record contained 4 hit singles, “Paid In Full”, “Eric B. Is President”, “I Know You Got Soul”, and “I Ain’t No Joke.”

Two-plus years ago when making a cd for a show, I thought it would be “dope” to throw “I Ain’t No Joke” on a comedy cd as, well, a joke. So, I did. And goddamn that beat, cause it made me “ca ca clap” to it.

No interruptions ’til the mic is broke

When I’m gone… then you can joke!

Cause everything is real on a serious tip

Keep playin, and I get furious quick

And I’ll take you for a walk through hell

Feed your dome — then watch your eyeballs swell

For real. Eric B. and Rakim still to this day remain as one of my favorite duos (see also: Pete Rock and C.L. Smooth, Stan and Deeve, Mork and Mindy, Phenomomom, Joe and Anna, Barrett and Goldman, and Black and White cookie), with Rakim taking the nod as the ultimate emcee.

It was a joke to play ‘Ain’t No Joke,’ but now it’s adrenaline, a song to bob your head to, and a shout-out to the man who nominate his DJ for president. That ain’t no joke.

.el sway

Home Sweet Home

Greetings, Lolabrigada.com readers. It is I, Ben, the most compulsively readable wordsmith that this fine site has to offer.

It’s been a long time since I’ve rapped with you, as me and the wife were on vacation last week. During this trying time, your friend and mine, Mr. Tom Lorenzo, held down the fort quite admirably. Tim and Jenn were unable to assist in this matter, unfortunately. Tim refuses to write for this site unless we pay him, and Jenn…well, she’s a woman. ‘Nuff said, right?

Anyway, I spent the bulk of yesterday getting up-to-date with my various email accounts, telephone answering services, and money-laundering schemes. It was all very overwhelming. And while the majority of the email messages I had to sort through were of the decidedly “junk” variety, there were a few that were illuminating and insightful.

One in particular really helped soothe my addled mind. It was from legendary Japanese vocalist Damo Suzuki, who became an international avant-rock superstar in the 70s as the frontman for Krautrock legends Can. I signed up for Damo’s email list when I saw him perform live in Brooklyn a few months ago, and I’m really glad that I did.

Damo starts off his missive to the masses with this intriguing thought:

“First month of the year is already gone. Time fly so quickly. Time is arrogant and time is ignorant. They never stop for our command.”

I am going to have this saying made into an inspirational wall hanging, one that will soon be available through the Skymall catalog.

Then, after noting that the death of his uncle occurred on the same day that his friend gave birth, Damo remarks “Life/Time is strange game…it brings strange combination…”

Again, another ready-made inspirational wall hanging. I’d pair this one with the image of a snake eating a much larger animal. Like, a goat.

Later on, in his diary of his most recent tour, Damo offers his thoughts on NYC. In a nutshell this is why I’m glad to be home:

“New York has magical thing. I’m not familiar to big city. But NYC is kinda “Something”.

Kinda something it definitely is, Damo. It’s good to be back.

Intelligent Infinite Botts.

This comes with a genuine hat tip to our friends over at Deadspin. Ladies and Gentlemen, selection Sunday is upon us. The fine folks at Name of the Year give you, well, the 2008 “Name of the Year” competition!

Now it’s up to you. Print the ballot. Fill it out. Argue the merits of No. 1 seeds Destiny Frankenstein, Steeve Ho You Fat, Fabio Assalone and Reprobatus Bibbs. Debate whether Dom Perignon Champagne was robbed with a No. 12 seed or whether No. 5 Baffelly Woo can take out No. 4 Poony Poon in an inevitable second-round matchup.

Oh joy! Just before March Madness is in full swing, we now have something else to debate. Last year we saw Vanilla Dong win the entire tournament by a staggering 2000 points over second place finisher, Kyle Sackrider.

Now, I thought I knew a few folks with silly names: Mack Mackinernie, Boopsie, Dallas Dodd, Ben Hill, Rimrod and Slimslod, Arty Party, Jeans Weiss, and We Lick Dic. But, I stand corrected.

If I had to choose my favorites in this tournament, I would have to go with Fabio Assalone. However, I wouldn’t sleep on Othello Cheeks or, my personal favorite, Spaceman Africa. Bringing up the rear would have to be Fonda Dicks.

Listen, I don’t vote. I just don’t. My vote doesn’t matter…blah…blah…blah. Or does it? Last year Conceptualization Gibbs finished in 5th place, one spot ahead of Gertrude Nipple. His margin of victory? Ten votes. I could have made a difference. I could have gotten out there and rocked the vote. Or, I could have done exactly what I’ll end up doing this year; nothing, which is probably best.

.el sway

YouTube Magic Johnson

This one comes from my new favorite sketch group: 37361811 Family.

Check ‘em out! LOL!

Not yet? Well, here’s the knockout blow!

Remember when you sit at home and cry and think, “daddy never loved me!” Well, you’re luckier than you think…

.el sway

You Ain’t Got No Honeynut Up In This Bitch?

In sad news yesterday, Wire creator, David Simon, killed off crowd pleaser Mr. Omar Little.   The toughest dude with a “short coming” or two got “got.”  Tough one to swallow.  I can’t add much to what has already been written, so I will point you in the direction of Shoals over at Heaven and Here.

Only two more episodes left until the show concludes.  I suspect more moments like the final ones in Omar’s life.  I’ll admit, when Detective Sydnor stopped his car to look at the map I held my breathe.  David Simon had created an atmosphere where anyone can get “took” at any moment.  And, yes, I kind of like it that way.

.el sway

Faced With a Problem, Edmund…Well, You Know What He Did.

See you there, Brooklyn.

.el sway

If You Got the Cabfare, Mister.

An intimate, and strangely awkward, performance from Richard Thompson. It’s for the weekend! To get through it, just pretend like you are not sitting alone and watching this. And that you’re not sanitizing your hands. Just, you know, pretend…

.el sway