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Last weekend I seriously fucked up my throat. Big time. It wasn't the first time that such a thing has happened; however, it was by far the worst.
See, basically what happens is that once you pour a few beers down my throat, I suddenly lose all concept of what is commonly referred to as an "inside voice". I get extremely loud and chatty, which is the exact opposite of what I am when sober. I'm sure plenty of you reading this right now have witnessed this phenomenon occur with me, so there's really no need to get into the details. Suffice it to say, I must have been shouting something pretty hard...because when I woke up on Sunday, my throat was like raw as fuck.
This wasn't entirely convenient timing, since Monday was supposed to be the first day of my "cool new job" -- which until my paperwork is all finalized is really "the cool new place where I volunteer". So, Sunday I took it easy, avoided talking and thought it would be a good idea to devour any and all oranges that I encountered.* However, instead of relieving my poor vocal tube, it felt more like I was eating rocks marinated in acid.**
Still, I managed to wake up bright and early (inflamed throat and all) and headed off to the offices of Fancy Hip-Hop Magazine (henceforth FHHM).
(Click below for more)
I'm sincerely hoping that everything works out at FHHM, as I really get the feeling that I could get a lot of free stuff from them. Hell, in the first week alone I received: a copy of the latest issue, a keychain, a t-shirt, and three Battle of the Year (breakdance world championship) DVDs. Dude. Sweet.
I must admit, I’ve never really paid much attention to the breakdance-cornerstone of hip-hop culture. Back in the day, I used to go with GH to this celler-type-club-place on 23rd (and Western, I think...). There were always a bunch of folks there a-poppin’ and a-lockin’ and a-spittin’ and a-scratchin’. It was pretty cool, but the DJs caught my attention a whole lot more than the breakers. Mmmmm...DJs....
After watching hours and hours of breakdancing, I’ve gotta say, it’s kinda grown on me. I mean, I’m not about to go out and start a crew and breakdance-battle everything that moves.*** However, I can definitely appreciate it as an artform and – dare I say it – a life-philosophy.
And, to prove my point, I would like to reveal Five Ways in which Breakdance-Battling Kinda Resembles Real-Life
5.) Sometimes you find yourself walking a fine line between Broadway musical and interpretive dance
Ten guys on stage doing the same dancesteps, is less like Breakin’**** more like um, let’s say A Chorus Line***** (with cooler moves perhaps)
And real life? Well, real life isn’t really anything like a Broadway musical, but sometimes I wish that it were...and since it’s not, then I find myself doing something that closely resembles interpretive dance...as I am not good with the words and such.
4.) In both cases, you may find yourself in awkward positions. Literally and figuratively.
Literally:
When it comes right down to it, breakdancing isn’t that much more than a sequence of awkward positions. In fact, the more awkward the position, the more points you get. Or at least more applause. Life is kind of the same way, except add alcohol. And the applause is mostly in your head.
Figuratively:
Real Life – ever shown up to a party where someone’s wearing the same outfit as you?
Breakdancing – ever shown up on stage where 15 people are wearing the same outfit as you?
Awwwwwkward!!!
3.) Sometimes when you think you’re looking your coolest, you really just look like a spaz
I think this one is kind of self-explanatory. True in life, true in breakdancing.
2.) When in doubt, do a backflip.
So, you realized that you can't actually pull off that spinning windmill headstand very well and you’ve forgotten most of your crew’s choreography. No problem, just stand up and do a backflip. People will love you. Why? Because not everyone can do a backflip. This also can be applied to real life. You could be Shitty McFuckface, the world’s biggest asshole, but if you can do backflips, you’ll still get invited to hella parties.
Person A: You didn’t invite Shitty McFuckface, did you?
Person B: Dude...he can do backflips....
Person B: Ah...good point.
1.) As usual, if Asians are involved, they’re probably gonna be better than you.
Personally, I’ve started saving up my money to send Wonfuzius to breakdance school. Sure, it’s all well and good that he’s a doctor (and I’m proud as hell of him). However, it would be about 10 million times cooler, if he were a breakdancing doctor.
Talk about dying happy...
*= Vitamin C is the shit
**= I'm aware that some acids would be strong enough to dissolve the rocks that they're marinating, but I'm trying to make some kind of metaphor here. Or rather a simile, I suppose.
***= But I think that will be my new way to threaten people when I’m drunk.
****= Insert Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo comment here.
*****= If there was ever a moment where I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about...this would be it
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