Justin Stone's creekbed

songs, prayers, poetry, stories, art, photographs, moving pictures, fondnesses, tall-tales and meditations

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Location: missouri, el paso

The Anterior Insula and Hwy W

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Oh, Britney. Oh, no. My dear, sweet little Squeaky Fromme. You think it's bad, but you don't know the half of it, girlfriend. Willie D (rap iconoclast, onetime Geto Boy, tireless politician) must be absolutely livid about your new look. I am guessing that you never heard Willie's seminal song/screed "Bald Headed Hoes" off the ground-breaking 1989 album Controversy, because if you had, you would not have shorn your greasy locks, nor would you now be idling around on cruise control. You would be driving for your life, Lynnette. I am afraid that you just called down a world of hurt on yourself, girl. You are lucky that Willie was nowhere near that tattoo parlour in Tarzana yesterday, but I don't know how long this luck will hold. It is only a matter of time now until your life gets all Fifth Ward up in this. There's a rumble coming, a dropping of B's, all manner of mind-playing tricks. Malibu may be on the bottom of the ocean before this is over. There is no turning back. If I know Willie, he is right now on round-the-clock conference call with 'Face, Bill (Beel) and DJ Ready Red, organizing some thunder. He might even bring Prince Johnny C back for this operation. My gawd. Best get out the way, B. This is war.

I suspect that at the very least this is going to convince Will to get on back to capitol hill and try to breathe new life into his gridlocked bill, the landmark legislation he brought to the rotunda floor in those naive days of 1989. The country was so young then, so unaware. Only Willie knew. In today's climate he may just be able to enact his precious law. Are you prepared to be an outlaw, Brit? Are you prepared for the possibility that you may be hunted down and exterminated by government-sponsored hair defenses?

These are dizzying, volatile times.

Britney, call me. I cannot make any hard promises, but I may be able to help you out. I know some people at Rap-A-Lot. I may be able to temporarily de-fuse the situation, maybe buy you some time while the tresses grow back. I don't know.

These are heady, worthless times.

We play these little games, blissfully unaware that at some point we may actually lose.

If you have a bald-headed ass granny, or a sister named Zanny, get them off the street as soon as you can.

Know that I am keeping my eye on this thing.

lyrics to Bald Headed Hoes (warning: link contains salty, baffling language)
best album cover of all time (warning: link may blow your mind)

I would post an mp3 of this song, but I dare not add fuel to the fire. If you can get your hands on this record do so as soon as possible.

(Major props to Ben Boyer, acting president/counsellor of the Geto Boys Metaphysicians Society, and to David Welek, agent provocateur and Willie D(ee) historian.)