Derrick or just DJ, Posts include irrelevant stuff on irrelevant topics.
"Every writer I know has trouble writing" - Joseph Heller
I was rather excited to come on here and share the dream I had the other night about my favorite porn star picking me up and taking me to her place and the stuff we did in said dream, however, I think I’ll chill on that. I mean, A) Don’t think that’s proper sex-dream etiquette and B) it wouldn’t be that much of a good look if my first post in the new Yahoo! era of Tumblr to be porn-related, right? Even if a significant amount of Tumblr posts are porn-related (Given, apparently, at least 40% of the Internet is porn).
But anywho, why is it for some reason I feel like David Karp is somewhere on a nude beach in France sippin’ on Alsace with a few former female followers doing his one last “Tumblr meet-up” right before he engages in things no one would share in a blog post on here with the backdrop of RAM, while laughing at us?
Then again, most likely won’t be anything at all.
Posted on 20 May, 2013
DJ’s Top-10 Office Moments:
DJ’s Top-10 Office episodes:
Here’s to hoping I don’t tear up tonight.
Tagged #The Office Posted on 16 May, 2013
Not sure how, but weeks later it’s finally setting it: Danny Brown really was on stage getting head while performing on stage as he continued to stay focus and concentrate on the lyrics by not messing them up. Unbelievably amazing. This takes the line Dreams of living life like rappers do to a totally different meaning now. May have to go put this in my Twitter bio or something.
Also: I feel so bad I literally fell asleep while listening to The Hybrid years ago after dude at work put me onto to him.
Posted on 8 May, 2013
[Kicks over the bucket with my stupid, punk feelings over-flowing from it in effort to be tough and ignore them but proceeds to accidentally slip over them when walking off and just lies there on the floor for several, several minutes just staring at the ceiling]
Tagged #Eye Suck Posted on 6 May, 2013
I have a love-hate relationship with the mail lady. One day she has this annoyingly flashing glow from her hazard lights being the backdrop to the entire block at almost 9pm at night as she delivers the mail obviously late; then the next day she has the mail in the metal box before I can take my first pee of the day. She’s so eloquently consistent at being inconsistant.
I’m only complaining given I’m trying to finish off these last few DVDs in my Netflix queue so I can free up that precious extra $8 that has been locked up since Netflix selfishly decided to split DVDs and Streaming pricing way back when. I’ve been on top of receiving and sending back these DVDs on time like my incoming nude carousel (Lulz — who am I kiddin’). I have six left, but I was trying to finish it off before they take that $8 at the end of the week.
If the mail lady would worry about being a tad bit consistent with the mail as she is with her 40s-the-new-30 mail lady wardrobe, I wouldn’t be complaining right now. Just a hunch. Then again I could’ve cut that $8 as soon as I got this MacBook and dappled into torrents.
Posted on 6 May, 2013
There’s this women at my place of work who’s been surely blessed by the music video Gods. She literally has enough ass for all my ass-less ex-girlfriends, my future ones, plus a little more left over for herself; and remember, I’m not even an “Ass Man.” Every time I see her, it’s rather difficult to hide the intense thirst within me, not to mention she’s hot. Plain and simple: she’s the perfect reason for having multiple “Dat Ass” face gifs/pics on your hard drive right now.
But my dangerously close to perverted gripe is she obviously know, or more like literally feels the daily thirst yearning for her by the opposing sex, so she wears her jacket around her waist 90-98.2% of the time to defuse it. Not to sound like the complete perv I can be (though thats probably out the window by now) sometimes, but why, ma’am? Why? No need to hide a great asset (See what I did there?)
I’d just like to appreciate a great female backside like her’s when put in front of me like every other dude (and lesbian). Guess I’ll just thank her previous life as music video girl, and hope I can maybe appreciate that in my next lifetime. (Surely her male friend in her life — if she has one — goes to work/grocery shopping/the gym/sporting events/bars/etc. with a troll-like smirk on his face everyday ‘cause he goes home to that every night. I mean, I would too)
I give you “DJ’s Feelings Playlist,” brought you by John Cusack and whoever still make boomboxes:
Posted on 19 April, 2013
The guy I grew up immortalizing. The guy I shaped the way I do things to this very day. The guy I’ve spent countless hours in that backyard on 2nd Avenue on 92nd street imitating his exact moves. The guy I’ve been spent more thought regarding than perhaps anything else in life period. That Kobe Bryant guy, the childhood hero who I truly thought was invincible, was put on the shelf with a single pop. Complete torn achilles. Our leader, our captain, our general, our everything is down. 17 years, 31,583 points, 54,754 minutes played all together (including playoffs and Team USA obligations), and a million broken hearts shattered into a kajillion pieces across the world. Kobe’s season ended, and maybe the Lakers’ season ended with his as he hobbled towards the locker room in the Lakers’ 118-116 victory over the Warriors Friday night. You forget, they won the game. Why, because it surly doesn’t feel like it. Feels like your heart and soul was forcefully ripped from your body simultaneously.
The tears. Literally asked myself five hours prior when was the last time I cried at something sports related upon listening to Colin Cowherd ask Sports Guy Simmons when was the last time he cried due to something sports related. Me? Had to be when I was 12 when the Lakers’ three-peat run ended at the hands of the San Antonio Spurs in May of 2003. Almost ten full years, huh? Didn’t think I’d be shedding tears Friday night unless it was at the hands of Happy Endings, and joyful ones at that. The legit tears of seeing your childhood hero, eyes red as cherries along with weary and distraught covering all of his face with the knowledge of the truth we all can’t deny no matter how much we fight it. Kobe is down. A sight we’re not at all use to. But he’s certainly not out for good.
Like someone said last night, it was a punch to the gut. I was thinking more of a knife to the chest or to the kidney. You never thought this could happen to him, the mighty Kobe Bean, the cyborg. Yeah, Father Time is undefeated, and we all know he was coming for Kobe like the killer in a Scream movie and he was going to get to him, it was just a matter of time; but given the way Kobe has ducked and dodged him these last couple of seasons, I foolishly started to think Kobe could be the one to out-smart him long enough to leave on his terms. That’s how amazing Kobe has been with injuries, pain tolerance and etc.; the guy isn’t human, and I actually thought he wasn’t, until April 12th, 2013. Those three plays of him getting hurt on perhaps three different injuries — the knee, the ankle and then the achilles — they were, in retrospective, him breaking down right before our very eyes. That image will be singed into my brain for at least the entire duration of his rehab, however long that will be, 6-9 months, whatever. It gives me goosebumps simply thinking about it, let alone me being able to watch replays of them. He kept fighting. A freak play it was, and he always, always thanked his incredible luck whenever he obtained yet another milestone of never having a true terrible injury to deal with. I’d think about that from time to time. How you see guys go down with ACL tears (seemingly every couple weeks these days), serious back injuries and many more, and we see this guy hurt and play through everything every single night; just a several sprained ankles, mangled index finger, torn ligament in his wrist, ripped up shoulder, bone spurs and a plethora more. But I guess it’s his turn to come back from something so devastating as this.
And I don’t care about anything else: what Mike D’Antoni should’ve done and what Phil Jackson would’ve and today’s stupid argument; whether they should amnesty him this summer to save money; anything Jim Buss related given so many people have such a strong opinion on someone you’d hear from once every other few months; don’t care about whether they can win these last two games to clinch “We’re no. 8” or even if they get in what can they do, none of it. I only care about the guy who literally left it all on the court simply to get our bad luck ridden team to a more-than-likely four or five-game dismantling at the hands of the Thunder in the postseason. Honestly, I simply wanted them in the playoffs just to avoid the “biggest disappointment in team sports history” title. They’ve shouldered that moniker all throughout this dreadful season with their unbelievable luck and he wasn’t going to let them down, unless something took him down and took him out, which something/someone did. Father Time. He finally caught up with him after all this time. But knowing what it costed us—our heart and soul, our everything. Knowing that, I’ll gladly go around Los Angeles, walk Wilshire Blvd or Crenshaw with a shirt the reads, “I’m a Proud Fan of the All-Time Most Disappointing Team in Sports History” if it meant knowing I’d see 24 jot back on defense while chewing on his jersey after hitting another one of his patented turnaround fadeaway jumpers.
All of this is truly unbelievable, I, like others who’ve watched him all these years, still can’t fully wrap our minds around this whole thing less than 24 hours later. Woke up Saturday morning thinking all of this was a terrible nightmare where you’re in some REM world frighten, uneasy, looking for help to turn to, but there isn’t anyone there. You’re attempting to scream but there isn’t anything coming out. So heartbreaking. I don’t even have the heart go read his 3AM Facebook post. He gave us everything he had during this nightmare in itself season from hell, and back, and in hell once again. This season was doomed from the start, and he tried his damndest to carry this team, this city, on his shoulders under all the expectations and it was simply too much. Just like that, a single pop did him in; a single pop derailed inhuman Kobe. Our fallen solider, our proven leader, our grand general, my childhood hero. We all know he’ll be back, whether it’s six months, or nine, or a full year—he’ll be back. And we’ll be waiting for you, Kob. You’ve done so much for all of us these last 17 years. The least we can do is stand by you every step of the way in your toughest challenge to date.
Posted on 13 April, 2013
Posted on 10 April, 2013
I’ve been thinking about this question lately, and given it’s Pharrell’s bornday, I’ll ask it: If you could only have one of the following, which would you choose? One more N.E.R.D. album, another Pharrell solo album, or one last truly great Neptunes production?
Though I’d love another, I highly doubt we’re getting another N.E.R.D. LP; and even though In My Mind was dangerously underrated, I’d choose one last great Neptunes beat. I want one more Neptunes production so I can tell my grandchildren 40-50 years from now. That just seems the only logical route to me.
Posted on 5 April, 2013