Dreams.

im on the coastline watchin as the sun sets

bank on steriods, love watchin my funds flex

nobody on the beach me, i could feel the sand underneath my feet

smell the salt when i breathe

got a house wit a view, city's even closer

frontlawn, no sign readin for-closuer

dont ever wanna move, up-root, re-locate

im stayin here like i gotta goto probate

shun away all the nightmares

stay blowed, so if i dream it all it's a miracle

i sleep when convient, so me dream is - few & far between

like a moon gettin eclipsed

till the alarm chirps, ill be dreamin of retirement

hopin' i dont out-live the enviroment

so when i get a real job it is a means to an end

wake up if u ever see me dreamin again

If the price is right. If you're winning, then I'm winning.

High as hell, scared to stand up

lookin at the ceilin', tryna shake the feelin' of the last puff

burpin up smoke, got me huffin

looked in the fridge 9 times, still aint picked nuthin

stomach empty, beats aint fillin me up

i need a broader menu, gotta watch what i put in my gut

so hard to not to snack of the trendy

corny ass beats, stick to red meat

blood drippin from my jaw, i can picture it

motivated, to make the best of my predicament

get the money, share it wit the people who most need it

hopin' that the process repeated

like unspoken law, we get in to give back to y'all

the plan is to walk, we don't need to crawl

back from the ashes of the wackness

home grown, the opposite of manufactured

i got a long term plan, wit good benefits

includin' cake for the relatives

i refuse to settle wit the bare min, on a new mission

to see the dreams in my head come to fruition

we all hurtin in the pocket

market value down, on the best of product

i want more than my share, smooth talker

holdin on the mic like bob barker, if the...price is right

i wanna make it wit the music, but life's crazy

its hard to focus on a verse, when i aint told my dad im expectin a baby

so im juss slackin' away, waitin for the slap in the face

the rumors you hear, or heard, are not actual

they said i left forever i say im back my sabbatical

and pickin up where i last left ya

put the finishing touches on my big lecture

breathe, eye contact make sure they listenin'

commandin they attention, show em what they missin

what it sounds like when the thoughts are un-altered

biography of dangerous, weed is the co-author

an i dont need much, juss a light budget

bigger than the school systems, i teach the kids something

trust that, i know people that'll reach 'em

money motivated, no other reason as long as the price is right

Seven is the number.

It's been a fun week, and it's only Thur... Wednesday, and that's basically Thursday, since most people have Friday off. Monday I helped my mother's friend move and got a decent payment for some easy work. I gave it all to my girl to be nice, since it's usually the other way around. I was extremely tired all day, so I didn't get to enjoy the wonderful weather.

Tuesday was fairly lame, but not overly lame. If "lame" was like being in the "red", and the opposite of lame was like being in the "black", then Tuesday was a "run on the bank." Thank god the bank never went under.

Wednesday, or today, was also pretty lame. Aside from the guest appearance of Caity, and my wife getting out of work early. The Pistons signed Ben Gordon and Charlie Villanueva, maybe they'll hire Jim Calhoun and make a bid for Caron Butler and Ray Allen, then move the team to Connecticut. Word.

It's still Wednesday, I'm bored as hell and feeling super cluster-fucked, as a swarm of company decided infest my living space. "Arg" I'm currently hiding in the most obvious place, luckily no one's looking for me.

I've been on this "Deal Breaker" shit hard lately. You would think piloting this helicopter to a power-plant over run by bikers would get boring after a million games... but... it hasn't. I keep finding new ways to annihilate their handle-bar mustaches. I always seem to be teamed with the most incompetent players GTA has to offer. I will take out all five floors of enemies, but when two bikers drive away on slow ass hogs, my teammates can't track them down. I'm in a helicopter, kamikaze-diving onto a boat full of raging lunatics with assault rifles. Pussies.

Zach Randolph is going the Grizzles for Quintin Richardson. Two players with up and down careers. Z-Bo is a moron-spartan, I got no love for that dude. Q-Rich is ok, I admire his commitment to Jordan shoes, but as a player, he hasn't accomplished much since Phoenix.

Alright, I'm gonna go rumor-surfing. Peace.

9

Why I'm not a ESPN NBA Analyst

It's been a long playoffs already, and while I didn't make any concrete predictions, I feel like a prophet. In the first round I expected to Cavs to sweep, Nuggets, Lakers, Mavericks, Magic and Boston to all advance. The second round played out the same way I expected, with the teams who are now playing the in conference finals all winning.

While it's still too early in the conference finals to retract any of my predictions, I admit I'm slightly worried. The Cavaliers are down 1-2, but I truly believe Mike Brown's lack of coaching skills will be balanced out by LeBron's play. Cleveland will win the next two games, one in

Orlando and the second on the home court. Stan Van Gundy has proven himself to be stable in pressure situations, and has really amazed me with his preparation and strategy in these playoffs. While the Magic are better at every position besides small forward, they don't have the on-court leader, or superstar player who can hit big shots in the fourth. The Magic are a classic example of how good players become great players can be if they allow themselves to be coached.

It's still to early for Dwight Howard to be "that dude" when it comes to taking over a game with his scoring. But the Magic have all the right parts to be champions, and if they advance to the finals this year, they would only be ahead of schedule. Cleveland is in a hard situation; they made moves during last season, swapping Drew Gooden for Ben Wallace, and acquiring Delonte West for Larry Hughes and then getting Mo Williams from the Bucks in the off season. Trades that suggested the star player wanted a new cast. They hold they best overall record from the regular season, and loosing to the Magic would only make it harder to keep the King in Cleveland.

That said, I am a Pistons fan who loves all 30 NBA teams for 30 different reasons. I won't list those reasons, and I might actually only like 27 of the 30 teams.

JR Smith is that dude.

PEACE

Don't Ruin My Movie

Today, Friday, April 1st, is the day we will get to see X-Men Origins: Wolverine on the silver screen. I've been tweaked for this movie since I first heard about Fox wanted to do prequels with a focus on individual mutants from the X-Men franchise. I figured Wolverine would get the first movie, since his character is arguably the most popular of all X-Men. 

I wish I had the extra cash to go see this later tonight, but I'm sure I'll see it before next Friday. The workprint didn't have much to offer, the special effects were still too young, and there's been extra footage added since the

 workprint leaked. Regardless, my excitement hasn't been deterred by the quality of the bootleg.

Ryan Renolds' portrayal of Dead Pool better be dope. If they fuck up the character, and this movie blows, I'm going to demand creative control of the franchise and take Fox to court. I'll make the next 4 X-Men movies in my backyard, blowing up old action figures for fight scenes.

Hell, I could probably find a X-Men nerd willing to scald h

is face with boiling hot water in-order to achieve the most accurate rendition of Deadpool's face. Wade Wilson was a crazy loo

king dude, I could only find a picture of a miniature statue. It's still a good picture, but a little more detailed than the face I remember from the comics. Deadpool is a beast, he 

has the same healing power as Wolverine, and is also a product of the Weapon-X program. I don't know why he's a ninja, but I know he'd smash Leonardo in a duel. On guard, bitch. Yaaaaaaa!

Anyways, if anyone reads this, and you see X-Men Origins, leave a comment with a review of the flick. Or don't. 

Peace,

Dangerous Carlo

I Need These

I'm not the biggest fan of Chris Paul, nor am I the biggest shoe head in the world. However, these shoes make me wish I never gave up my mall job. The Air Jordan CP3 II, in it's new White/Mean Green colorway are inspired by the Incredible Hulk. They did this shit 15 years too late. I used to run around in my drive way in some old, beat up purple sweats and a ripped plaid shirt, screaming at cars and random animals like I was the Hulk. That usually ended when the neighbor came out and started gutting squirrels on the hood of his taxi. Mr. Squirrel is what we called him, he was fuckin' weird. 

We lived two blocks from West Wood Mall, on Brown street and this dude was slicing up squirrels for dinner, like Polly's wasn't just up the road. Anyways, I found these on sneakerfiles.com . Go there and look at other shit.

Also, if you haven't had a chance to catch the first round match up of the Chicago Bulls and Boston Celtics (NBA Playoffs), then you are missing the best basketball of... almost said all-time, but that's giving them too much credit. But it's been a great series and game 7 is on Sunday. I think, go to espn.com to be sure.

Joakim Noah's steal in the 3rd over-time of game 6 was crucial. Steals the ball from Paul Pierce 

(Douche) and takes it 3/4's of the court for a plus-one dunk, shits on P-squared and makes his free throws. I despise the Celtics like 100 degree weather. With all due respect, I'm glad Kevin Garnett is hurt for this series. It allowed the Bulls to get some calls, and it made the series about the point guards. Rondo averaging a triple-double through the first five games was insane.  But,

Ray Allen is a robot and Paul Pierce is top of the line douche. Rondo is a beast, but I can't stand him either. Chris Farley would have a heart attack if Da Bulls pulled it off in Boston. 

I'm out.

Fuck Boston.

1

My Computer is working..

What the fuck is up? I am back online with my own computer. Do you know how fucking pumped I am? No, you fucking don't. The Playoffs are on and I'm pumped about this also. I'm so pumped I feel like this guy: 

His arms exploded. Foreal.

On a far more serious note; Brett Farve is a free agent, but will remain retired. Don't expect Jesus H. Farve to come out of his cave.

Unless he decides he can't leave the game alone, and chooses to give it another go. You never know, Michael Jordan couldn't leave basketball alone and Michael Jackson couldn't leave little boys alone. Man, that's fucked.

Peace,

Mr. Hall

Beep... Beep... Beep...

Sometimes my computer chooses death over life. I revive it daily, defibulating its heart. Here it goes now...

Fuck you TOSHIBA BATTERY!!

AL!!!

Insert Hand Here

If they fuck up X-Men Origins: Wolverine, I will be upset. That is all.

Also, I want to be the director for the Captain Planet movie. The time is right for this movie to start production, seeing as how the world is melting away slowly and we'll all be drowing from melted iceburgs soon. Captain Planet, he's our hero, gonna take polution down to fuckin NEGATIVE ONE!

Are you the one... Mr. Boots??

I can feel it, crawling up my spine like a large spider. My gut tells me to turn around, but my brain won't compute. I push closer to the cold, begging for a conflict with Mr. Boots. Boots is notorious for making strong, burly men run scared and scream like a guy with a vagina. Ask this douche: Zak

I need to get in shape. My Under Armor is still too tight, even for Under Armor, and until I'm in peak physical form, I can't go ghost hunting with my WalMart shades and self-painted belt buckle.

Back to Boots....

Mr. Boots was made for walking, and that's what the fuck he does. The next time you come in Mr. Boot's cave he's putting a boot into rectum. Mr. Boots could care less if your raging from your steroids, he just wants to rip out your soul and devour it while you slowly grow cold and die. Mr. Boots attacks at will, regardless of sexual orientation, race or religious preference. His only goal is to remove your spirit and consume your soul like a Hungry Man dinner.

Mmmmm.... Popcorn chicken. 

This show should be canceled, if not for the fugazi-ness, at least because it's corny as fuck. 

Next topic: None.

Good fucking night...

assholes...

Peace be with you.

Sigh Oh Nar uhh

I was just thinking...

Today I thought about a connection regarding the Death Of Super-Man story-line, and Michael Jordan's retirement.

When it comes to comics, most people will say Super-Man is the number 1 hero. In turn, basketball fans will answer "Who's the best" with "Mike" 10 times out of 10. They're basically the top dude in their respective mediums. And both have achieved great things, and they've both been defeated in epic battles... well sort of...

So in Death Of Superman, Doomsday comes down to earth and smashes on Sup' and the JLA. After Doomsday beats down the JLA, only Super-Man is left to battle this big ass dude. After a dope ass fight, and some crazy shit, Super-Man ends up dead in the middle of Metropolis. The Justice League held a funeral, and for a while, shit was crazy in Metropolis.

Meanwhile, in the NBA, Mike had won the second-half of his 6 rings and called it quits. Tim Duncan won the Admiral his 'chip, soon after Kobe and Shaq started a three-peat with Mike's old coach.  Jordan had to comeback, he had fucked the Wizards up with bad draft picks and sold his share of the team to become a player and start his third come-back. His first season back was also the last season Kobe and Shaq won a title together. M.J. played two seasons in a Wizards uniform, before finally loosing his battle with the biggest villain to all NBA Players: Time.

This is where shit gets weird.

In the comic world, four new Super-men had arrived on the scene. The youngest was Superboy, the coolest was Steel, the wackest was the cyborg superman, and the last one was another Kryptonian alien. The Man Of Steel claimed to be the spirit of Super-Man, rather than claiming to actually BE Super-Man, as was the case with the other three. Superboy was actually a clone of Super-Man but in a younger form, with a more material demeanor.  The cyborg prick, or Man of Tomorrow,  was a robotic version of Super-Man with Krypton technology, almost like a re-built Super-Man.  The final super-clone was referred to as The Last Son Of Krypton. This version would kill criminals, and wore a Horace Grant visor.

Now, suppose Super-Man is Michael Jordan, it shouldn't be hard to imagine. The clones would be...

Steel: LeBron James. He embodies the spirit of Mike, but he knows he isn't Mike. His size and strength, along with his physical stature, is similar to Steel. For the record, fuck Shaq, he's on Clark Kent's dick.

Super-Boy: Dwayne Wade. Super-Boy was a younger incarnation of Super-Man, more reckless and youthful. Dwayne is very similar to Jordan, and the Super-Boy of M.J is definitly D. Wade.

The Man Of Tomorrow: Kobe Bryant. Kobe is a robot, he wants to be Mike. From the plus-one aspect of his number, to his desire to win 7 rings. While Kobe is essentially a clone of M.J, his bitterness and resentment fuels his desire to be better than Mike.

The Last Son of Krypton: Vince Carter. Vince is like a bizzaro-mike. He resembles M.J, he can do things Mike did, but something about him is dramatically different than the G.O.A.T.  Vince's killer instinct the opposite of Jordans. While Mike tries to make the shot to win the game, Vince takes the shot to look good. Michael was competitive, Vince is entertaining, but none the less, lethal.

They all follow in the steps of Jordan, and Kobe is the closest thing to Mike in terms of championships and individual accomplishments. LeBron has the spirit and the appeal of Steel, and has yet to really scratch the surface of his potential. D. Wade came out hard, and in a lot of ways seems like a young Mike, with an aggressive demeanor and reckless defensive play. Vince was the least successful of the four, in regards to championships and awards, but style of play and athletic ability are similar to Jordan.

Time will tell if Super-Man will ever return. Obviously Michael will never play in the NBA again, but perhaps the story can be re-written and a new Super-Man will rise and protect the world... Or in this case, win a shit ton of championships and set retarded scoring records. 

Man... I'm tired. Fuck the spelling mistakes... I'm tired... and...

and....

and..

stoned...

One Love... Peace!

D. Hall!

References: 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Death_of_Superman#Aftermath

http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/statistics

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Jordan

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_NBA_champions

I need to get famous....

I was thinking today, I need to become famous. My reasoning is this: I want to do voice-overs for commercials. Such ass Keefer Sutherland doing bank spots, or Morgan Freeman doing some shit here and there. I said such ass, and I ment it.

I'm thinking once I'm famous and Oprah-rich, I'll do commercials to get free shit. Like, let's say down the road I got like 4 kids, and working on my 5th. I'd do a commercial for Target (school clothes and supplies), and maybe some voice over work for some banks or American Express an shit (limit-less credit). And then, when each kid turns 18, I'll do a commercial for the University of Michigan (Tuition).

My plan is fool-proof, I just need the blueprints to getting rich. And I got the blueprints, except someone stole them (coughsikecough). But lately I've been considering playing the lottery, or maybe actually working hard, but the arms of life pull me away when I'm traveling to buy said lotto tickets, and I'm lazy (e.d: and a stoner).

I also would like to get free season tickets to the Pistons, Tigers, Red Wings and, or course, the Wolverines (all sports minus gymnastics).

I am fucking bored.

I don't wish to be famous, or rich (well... real rich at least) but I wouldn't mind.

Be good. Go Blue.

Love/Hate

I don't know... sometimes they just act retarded?

My Blog is better than Al's...

Because I blog-supreme. I'm waiting for my sack to arrive, all while holding my sack. I wish to smoke, minus the tabacco, plus the THC. I popped some puss out of my thumb, it was very ugly. It looked like my thumb ejaculated the funk.

Check out my brother's blog: www.alexhall46.blogspot.com

It was me..... i forgot the end of this sentence....

New music will be arrive soon....

Oh, and I got a big secret. Ask me.