Friday, January 25, 2008
The Sheik
Nothing beats passing silent film icon Rudolph Valentino through a 21st Century hip-hop lens, then tossing the remains through the refracted amplification of name brand simulacra until it deconstructs into a gray, hooded and overpriced turd.
There it is, coming out the other end of the hundred year pop-culture digestive tract, chewed, digested and repackaged.
Gangsta Valentinobag.
But I forgive.
Because both of the Hott Brunette’s shoulders are politely asking me to nibble on them.
And who am I to refuse a request for shoulder nibble? In pygmy culture, refusing the shoulder nibble would be met with ritual castration by the village elder.
