Tag Archives: rap

The REAL Home Grocer

I loved 1998 – 2001. I’m sure living in Brazil and those being my first real years of consciousness contributed to the love, but I also think those years were amazing in general. They were the first years where the internet was really changing things for normal people – Napster existed, Amazon was out there. There was a certain electricity in the air, a collective feeling that everything was about to change or at least that Y2K would destroy us all.

The summer after 8th grade was my favorite summer during adolescence. We’d always come back from Brazil during school breaks, but instead of staying in the Camden Suites that was located in the scenic parking lot behind the Target (with “penthouse” views of the hospital from across the highway!) we weren’t renting our house out that year and we were able to spend the summer there. It was The Summer of Rap, the summer I wasn’t fat and the summer that Rachel got to stay over basically every night. Rachel was my best friend all through middle school, and the glue that held our friendship together despite my living in another country was that we both loved to make stupid shit. It started with our development of a village for tooth beavers. Tooth beavers were Rachel’s creation from I dunno when, but I learned about them when she used them to defend me from this boy who was making fun of me in 6th grade. I was wearing two WWJD bracelets that happened to be purple (“God’s Royalty”) and rainbow (“God’s Promise”) without understanding that those colors were fairly popular symbols of gay pride. Poor pre-adolescence Tiffany, realizing stuff was gay would not be my strong suit for the next 10 years…

They were SYMBOLIC, people.

So anyway, earlier that day I was wearing the bracelets when this scary goth chick named Cassidy stopped me to ask me something. By default, anyone with any sort of identity was cooler than me because all I had going for me was that I was The Girl Who Had Green Highlights On St. Patrick’s Day, which was kind of cool until I nervously explained to everyone that “oh no, this wasn’t intentional. I didn’t wash my hair after swimming and the pool dyed my hair green” so that’s not saying much. So Cassidy goes,

“Are you hetero?”

And I have NO FUCKING CLUE what that means. So I’m like,

“… Am I… head-ro?”

“No. I said are you HET-ER-RO?”

“What’s a head-row?”

“HET.      Er.          ROOOOOO.”

“I’m really sorry. I don’t know what a head ter row is. Can you explain it?”

“Just forget it.”

Later on in Journalism class, this boy Matt started making fun of me for the bracelets and I figured out what Cassidy was asking me.

“Haha. Your bracelets are gay.”

“No they’re not! They’re What Would Jesshsus Do bracelets. They’re like the opposite of gay.” At that point I still had the lisp.

“Why are you wearing purple and rainbow together then? Are you gay?”

“Purple issssh royalty and rainbow is God’sh promish!”

“Purple is gay and rainbow is also gay. Are you gay?”

This is when Rachel swooped in with her wonderful, weirdo tooth beavers.

“Matt the tooth beavers are gonna eat your teeth and paint a giant rainbow tooth beaver on your garage if you don’t shut up.”

“What are tooth beavers?”

“They’re the things that cause cavities. Duh.”

Then Rachel spent the rest of class drawing pictures of Matt’s garage door with rainbow tooth beavers on it. I thought they were hilarious, and they become our joke for the rest of the year. We made cardboard cartoon tooth beavers and tried building a village for them. We made them costumes… the whole shebang. When I moved to Brazil the tooth beaver project was tabled indefinitely, but my trips to the US gave way to new jokes, dances, songs and entire imaginary universes around the characters we’d create.

Ice Jam 2000 was the birth of “No Stubs,” our incredibly offensive amputee-themed parody of “No Scrubs”. I wonder what my mom was thinking as she drove around two girls gleefully singing, “If you have no legs and you’re hoppin’/ Oh yes son/ I’m talking to you”. But that summer we blew “No Stubs” out of the water. HomeGrocer had just come out, along with WebVan and bunch of other services that would deliver directly to you. My father had been telling us for years that this was going to happen. “One day you’re not going to need to leave the house to rent a movie! That’s the future!”

For some reason, Rachel and I decided that Home Grocer was gangsta as F and that he was just one dude driving around in a peach van, bringing the whole city of Atlanta their groceries from his peach truck.

I stole this photo. I don’t know where it’s from, just google ‘homegrocer’ if you care.

So, because it was The Summer of Rap, I made up a few rap parodies about Home Grocer. They were basically all Eminem songs, but “The Real HomeGrocer” was my absolute favorite. And I want to share the lyrics with you guys, because I still remember them. I can’t tell you any important dates in US history, but I can remember the lyrics to a rap song about groceries I wrote in middle school. As a disclaimer, in middle school things like cheese and the name “Bob” were hilarious to Rachel and me. Was that everyone or just us? I’ve never been able to tell, but this song references cheese a lot for that reason. Other than that I need to remind you guys that I WAS ONLY 13 WHEN I WROTE THIS. Yes, I know. I’m brilliant. People tell me far too often.

If you want to try to rap along, here’s the link to The Real Slim Shady. I’m giving you the edited on because that’s how I learned it in 8th grade.

The Real Home Grocer

May I have your attention, please?

May I have your attention, please?

Will the real Home Grocer please stand up?

I repeat. Will the real Home Grocer please stand up?

We’re gonna have a problem here.

Y’all act you never seen a Home Grocer before

Cheese all on the floor

Like pans and muffins just burst in the door

He started deliverin’, first to your door

First was ignored

Fruit stains on the furniture – ah!

It’s the return of the ah, wait, no – wait?

You’re kidding

He didn’t just eat what I think he did, did he?

And Web Van said –

Nothing you idiot! Web Van’s dead he’s locked in peach truck

All of the women love the HG man

cheezy cheezy cheezy

Home Grocer, I’m sick of him. Look at him?

Drivin’ around, bringing us who knows what

Bringing it to you know who

Yeah but he’s so cheap though!

I probably got a couple of screws up in my truck loose

But no worse than what’s going on in your parent’s fruit juice

Sometimes I wanna get on the highway and just let loose

But I can’t, but it’s cool for Web Van to sell a dead moose

“His cheese is good on chips, his cheese is good on chips,

And if you’re lucky it might not burn your little lips.”

And that’s the produce that we deliver to little kids

And expect them no to know what blue cheese really is

Of course they gonna know what mold spores is

But the time they hit fourth grade

They got the science lab don’t they?

But if he can sell dead animals and cheese that’s old

Then there’s no reason I can’t sell rotten cantilope

But if you feel like I feel, I’ve got the antidote

Women I sell panty hose, and the chorus – here it goes

Cuz I’m home grocer, yes I’m the real grocer

All the other web vans are just imitating

So won’t the real Home Grocer drive his truck?

Drive his truck?

Drive his truck?

“Forgot about Cheese” was also a favorite of mine. For what it’s worth, I always imagined the HG man to look something like this –

After Googling HomeGrocer, I learned more than I ever wanted to know about the company and it’s totally shattered my childhood dreams of the mystical one man HomeGrocer. And that’s why Wikipedia shouldn’t exist.

Peace, love and mold spores, 

BWCE

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You Go Girl!

Disclaimer: I could just as well have named this post “A Lot of Drake Songs That Tiffany Likes.” I love people’s Get Pumped Up playlists. I think they say more about a person than any other playlist. It’s universally understood that you don’t fuck with someone else’s Get Pumped Up playlist because what contents lie inside it are private. Additionally, no one is going to grab your iPod at a party and be like “I choose to play your Workout Mix. That sounds like the best choice!” As a result, it’s the only playlist that gives its owner free reign to put whatever he or she wants. There’s no need to make sure it’s cool, or varied. It doesn’t have to ebb and flow like a playlist named after a season (**Fall** is always my best season-inspired playlist).

Well, friends, because we’re BFF, I’m sharing my Get Pumped Up playlist with you. I know you’re hoping to discover I secretly love Glee ballads or heavy metal. I’m sorry to tell you that my playlist is no more than a reflection of exactly who I am: A large, black, millionaire drug dealer.

Jay-Z – “Hate”

So the first thing that you need to know about my method of psyching myself up is that haters are a major part of it. Who are my haters? I’m not really sure. I don’t know if I have any. I mean, I’d assume that some people are like ‘God I hate that girl. What is up with her sandwich obsession and why does she apologize and turn bright red every time she very slightly bumps my foot or leg with hers?’ or some variation of that, but I doubt they care enough to be actual haters.

I think the reason that I want haters is because I know how much I kind of love the people I hate. For me, hatred equals  obsession. My hate-ees(?) range from celebrities to That Girl from That One Class in college who was constantly trying to prove that she should have tested into a higher level of music theory outright (dude, you took the test. You didn’t have enough Harmony skillz for Harmony 2. Quit asking about Ionian scales already, we’ll get to it next semester). I follow these people more than my best friends because of how hungry I am for more ammunition. I am giddy in my hatred and I can only hope that there’s at least one person out there in the world who hates me enough to stalk the shit out of me. You hear that, hater(s)? I LOVE YOU TOO. [Update – in between writing this post and Tuesday I have discovered someone who wrote a pretty bad review of my eBook and the website it’s on keeps tweeting about it. SO I guess I sort of have a hater, at least for right now. Win?]

Ok, so back to hyping myself up. Because I don’t know if they’re real of not, I have to focus on who I think my haters are and then I hype myself by thinking about all the ways I’m “showing them”.

Yeah, mean bag lady from the supermarket. Look at me now. Jogging.

Drake“The Motto”

There are some great, nay, perfect hype up lines in this. “Go uptown New York City big,” is a good one. It’s where I discovered YOLO, which was a wonderful thing for a few moments before the internet or hipsters or something ruined it. Whatever, I still love YOLO. But the reason this song is one of my ultimate hype of songs is because of the line “How ya feel/ How ya feel/ How ya feel/ 25 sitting on 25 mil.”

While I am 27 sitting on the 25 cents I have in my Bank of America savings account, and even that only exists because I have the Keep the Change program, sometimes I feel awesome and I think I can relate to how awesome Drake feels.

Drake & Rihanna –Take Care

This song makes me feel good about being young and making bad choices (parents, shield your children from Rihanna at all costs). Because being in a relationship is (wonderful) boring, listening to this song takes me back to the last time I was single, which was also boring, but I like to remember it as being dramatic. Lines like, “What’s a life with no fun / Please, don’t be so ashamed / I’ve had mine, you’ve had yours / We both know / We know,” and “Dealing with a heart that I didn’t break.”

So here’s the part in the blog post where you’ve started judging me. REMEMBER WHAT I SAID AT THE BEGINNING. Pumped up playlists are great because they’re terrible, shameful reminders of all the ways in which we take ourselves and our lives too seriously.

Young Jeezy – “Put On

I don’t know if anything pumps me up more than songs about Atlanta by rappers from Atlanta. I don’t actually know what constitutes the act of ‘putting on,’ but I assume it has a something to do with showing the haters that Atlanta is the best.

What now, person who grew up in Cincinatti who got the last sesame bagel this morning? I’m putting on for my city significantly harder than you are putting on for Cincinatti. Are you even putting on for Cincinatti at all?

JoJo – “Get out

There’s something so girl powery about this song. The closest thing I’ve ever had to being cheated on was when the compulsive liar I was “if I DID want to be in a relationship it would definitely be with you”-ing at the time had some sort of make out/hickey competition after I’d gone home to go to sleep because I had to get up for work at Waffle House in the morning. I don’t think it really count as being cheated on, but again in my love of dramatizing past situations in my mind I like to think about this experience as having actually been a music video in which I stood on some sort of stage in front of all of our friends and sang this, interspersed with B roll footage of my laying on my bed looking skinny and sad.

Drake – “Money to Blow

Best line – “I am what everybody in my past didn’t want me to be”

Guess what freshman year judge of my vocal proficiency exam who called me not a very musical student? I’m a project manager now.

2 Chainz – “I’m different

Because I am different, goddammit.

Rihanna –Good Girl Gone Bad

Seriously, why would anyone ever let their child listen to Rihanna? This is another dramatizing my past song. I’m pretty sure that I have not gone bad in any of the ways that Rihanna is warning men I may be forced to go bad if they become “The Reason” by always going out with their boys or something. I don’t think I really understand what this song is about, actually.

Ke$ha –Tik Tok

This is on everyone’s pumped up playlist… right?

T.I. – “Tell ’em I said that

Along with its menacing beat, the key line in this song for me is “These n(words)s ain’t G!” Back when I did floral sales, I used to play this on the way to meetings to get myself in the zone to sell. I’d stand there on the train, dressed in a pencil skirt and holding a giant binder full of flower pictures and imagine the meeting. I was going to give a presentation so good that at the end the restaurant owner would lean back in his chair and think, “Wow. I never thought about it before, but my callas lilies really aren’t G, are they? I’ve got to buy this chick’s flowers.”

T.I. – “I’m Back

THEY SET A CAR ON FIRE IN THE MUSIC VIDEO. T.I. IS FROM ATLANTA. I PUT ON FOR MY CITY.

Lil Wayne –Get High, Rule The World

I retired this song a while back, but I think it deserves to be noted. First because this list doesn’t adequately express my love of Weezy, but second because there was a year or two where this was my anthem. It was definitely during my stoned music school phase when I liked to delude myself into believe that if I were to get high, I might still be able to rule the world. If I did my own mixtape version of Lil Wayne’s version, it would be “Get High, Get a Mediocre Score on my LSAT Prep Test.”

Ne Yo -“Miss Independent” ( the alternate option is Webbie’s “I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T” depending on my mood) –

There was a big “She Work Hard for The Money” theme in 2009 pop songs. I think Keri Hilson had something to do with it, but I was way into it. The other thing that happened in 2009 was that I moved home from college and right back into my parent’s house. If there really were a song for me, it would be something like “C-O-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T / You know what dat means? / She got her parents house/ she got her parents car / they get a tax break / she got a bachelor of arts.”

Even now, I can’t listen to Ne Yo croon about this gorgeous, well established woman and think “that’s totally me.” I pay my own bills (sort of) and sometimes I put on a pencil skirt and tuck in my shirt, but I usually discover it has some stain from whenever the last time I was feeling like a Boss and treated myself to Starbucks, which I promptly spilled on my Boss-gear. When it comes down to it, the only “own thing” I have is $2,500 in credit card debit. That’s allllll mine.

Oh! One other reason why I get pumped up by Webbie’s take on self-sufficient ladies is because it’s a song with spelling in it. AREN’T SONGS WITH SPELLING THE BEST?? I swear the only reason I supported Fergie’s solo career was because I had so much fun spelling with her.

Honorable mention: Drake’s “Make Me Proud“. This song has SO MANY of my favorite pumped up lines, and I love the idea of being loved because I may one day make the decision to run on the treadmill and only eat salad, but then Nikki Minaj comes in and starts bragging about her vagina and it ruins all of it for me.

Song that should not be on anyone’s playlist and frankly should not exist: The Black Eyed Pea’s “I got a Feeling”. If you hear this song while you’re getting ready to go out, don’t go out. Your night is going to be a bad night.

Peace, love and peace and love to all my hatttttttersssssss, 

BWCE

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Bad Rap for Good People

My love affair with rap began at a pretty young age; it started the first time I heard TLC’s “Waterfalls.” On the album version of the song, there’s a rap that Left Eye does that I immediately became obsessed with. I’d recite the lyrics off the tape cassette insert along with her rap until I’d learned the entire thing. I listened to every TLC song I could get my hands on at eight years old and paid particular attention to any of the rap-py bits.

I bought the TLC CrazySexyCool video tape and tried to learn all the dances and for Halloween of 1996, I dressed up like Left Eye. When I look back at my childhood, I can’t decide if my parents let me run with these type of ideas because they were trying to “encourage my individuality and self-confidence,” or if they knew that the shit I came up with would be hilarious later in my life. While I’m pretty sure it was the former, 90’s touchy-feely stuff, I am appreciative of it for the latter and will forever be indebted to them for the photo evidence.

Denim floppy hat + mom’s overall shorts + bandage over my split chin stitches = Left Eye? It really all came down to the black under-eye paint, that I decided to put under my RIGHT EYE.

The socks and sandals are another story entirely.

BUT THE BEST THING, YOU GUYS, was that I had a lisp as a little kid.

Me: “Trisck or Treat!!”
Old lady neighbor: “Aw! How cute! Are you Blossom?”
Me: “No! I’m Lissssa Left Eye Lopetss from TLTSEE. I like their album CrazyTsssetssky Cool!”
Old lady: (hands me candy, looks cautiously at my mother) …And what are you little boy?
Little brother: I’m Spidewuh-man!

We both had speech impediments as kids. My poor mother.

………………………..

My lifelong love for rap solidified the summer after 8th grade, around the time rap infiltrated Top 40s radio. My family was living outside of the country, but we’d come back to Georgia every summer and I’d hang out with my friends and re-Americanize myself. I’d go back to Brazil each fall with new music and more sparkly hair clips shaped like butterflies. The summer after 8th grade, the top 40 included “The Real Slim Shady,” “Forgot About Dre,” “Party Up,” and “Country Grammer,” among so many other gems. Our Youth Pastors warned us about the perils of listening to “the rap,” and how sexual lyrics and dirty words were the perfect way for Satan to gain a foothold in our mind. A lot of kids used the excuse that they didn’t listen to the lyrics, but I felt extra guilty – I wasn’t just listen to the lyrics… I was studying them. I memorized them line by line so I could rap along with Mystikal and DMX. Luckily, I’d gotten rid of the lisp by then.

In spite of my guilt, I taped every rap song off the radio and brought the casette back with me to Brazil. I’d listen to it late at night when I was sure my parents (who probably couldn’t have cared less) were asleep. When it comes down to it, rap was my first rebellion. I was a really lame teenager.

I do not judge my rap. I am not some 90’s hip hop lover, and I’d like to think that by now all of you understand how much I love shitty things more than good things. I like some of the worst rap ever, and I’m damn proud of it. So after much ado, here’s a list of some old favorites I’ve been revisiting today.

The “White Tee“/ “Black Tee” song combo, by Dem Franchize Boyz/Crime Mob/ Gucci Man… It’s really unclear who wrote these songs. 

I have several things I need to mention:

  • The low-fi awesomeness of the “White Tee” video and its intro.
  • The slight change in the beat of “Black Tee,” so that it sounds more menacing.
  • Can we talk for a second about how amazing the premise of these songs is? These songs are basically just lists of things you can do while wearing a certain color of extra large t-shirt.

Holidae Inn” by Chingy.

In one of my music business courses, we read this article about the downfall of  the recording industry and how a lot of it had to do with labels trying to recreate existing artists rather than developing new, individual talent. Chingy is the rap version of that. Someone in the rap industry was like, “Hey, you know who people really like? Nelly. He’s definitely gonna be around forever. Let’s get another Nelly.”

They lyrics to this song are some of the most recycled rap lyrics ever… And yet, I can’t stop listening. It’s delightful. Also, if you need any more proof that Chingy was forced to emulate Nelly, check out his 2006 lesser-known hit with JD, “Dem Jeans.” The only remaining Nellyisms come at 1:44 when he yells, “Ohhhh! Hayyyyy!” from a car.

Wait” by the Ying Yang Twins. 

Does this actually fall under the umbrella of bad songs? I’m not sure. I love this song and pretty much everything Ying Yang has ever done, but I think one of the best awesomely bad parts of this song is how sexual the song is versus how disgusting both members of Ying Yang are, and YET, they decide to be the featured quite prominently in the music video. At the very least, the chicks in this video aren’t super hot either, so it seems a little more realistic that one of them (is it Ying or Yang?) can get away with getting his terrifying lips that close to her ears.

I think they look better with the bucket hats.

Unleash the Dragon” by Sisqo 

“It’s a new millenium, it’s a brand new day.” Enough said.

LOL Smiley Face” by Trey Songz.

This is the song that inspired this post, because I’m ashamed of how much I love this song. IT’S SO BAD. LIKE, SO BAD. Let’s talk about the lyrics for a second:

Shorty just text me,
Says she want to sex me
Lol smiley face, lol smiley face
Shorty sent a twitpic,
Saying come and get this
Lol smiley face, lol smiley face

Actually, I’ve been staring at this block of lyrics trying to think of some astute observation for about 30 minutes now and I’ve got nothing. I have listened to “LOL Smiley Face” at least five times, and have watched fan dances (which all claim to be “official”) and read a YouTube commenter fight about what it means to be African. I think I just lost the will to live. Like right now. Anyway, I’d highly recommend reading the lyrics to “LOL Smiley Face” and if you have some jokes please make them in my comments section.

After listening to this song on repeat this is the only thing happening in my brain right now –

He does not have an “LOL :)” look on his face.

“LOL Smiley Face” broke my brain, I’m going to go lie down now.

Peace, love and I also love everything Soulja Boy has ever done, 

BWCE

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