My drops have been kinda erratic of late, mainly on account of my kids being home for Spring break (TWO WEEKS!!!) and bugging the eff outta me about this that and the third. Plus, wifey decided this would be the best week to start on her Spring cleaning bullshit. A whole house full of crap is kinda hectic, plus we’re aiming to air out the basement so life is hell for me right about now. I got some fresh topics cooking, but unless Chris Brown puts another shoe on Ri Ri, I’ma bless ya’ll with some legendary throwback posts, the posts that helped put me on the map and further helped the boy Byron Crawford in becoming the em effin President of the Internets, especially since Miss Info is current reigning King. Four years ago, starting on March 25th, 2005, Byron and I rocked the world with the series “Combat Jack’s 5 Gulliest Moments In The Music Industry”. Starting today, all week will feature my world famous and award winning 5 part series on my top five gulliest moments in the music industry, all in their remixed glory. To those of ya’ll that read these before, I hope you re-enjoy, and for those of you who never peeped, sit tight and enjoy.
#5: R.A. The Rugged Man politely offers his sloppy seconds.
I used to work with R.A. the Rugged Man a few years ago. I like dude [||]. Sure he stays dirty as fuck, always has, and has been misunderstood for years (mainly for doing ill shit like actuallly pulling his cock out in front of a female employee, IN the offices of his former label, Jive Records). [||] 2x. Anyways, I could never get over the fact that someone who so aptly epitomized white trailer park trash not only had mad skills as an emcee, but had cats that were really respected in the game co-sign as well as collaborate with him on some joints (notably, pre 1997 Mobb Deep and the late great G.O.A.T., The Notorious B.I.G.). He was an interesting one, especially since dude was an effin expert with regard to all types of slasher, gore and horror flicks. You know, a real wholesome type’a dude.
So dude hears about me and hires me to negotiate a deal for him with a label (I think it was Koch, or some other graveyard label for dead rappers). Anyways, one day, R.A. comes to my office accompanied by some skanky, hittable white trailer trash biker chick. We’re discussing business and this chick isn’t saying an effin word, silent like a white church mouse. About 25 minutes into our meeting, R.A., out the blue and all spontaneous like, asks me what I think of the chick. I give her another once over and tell him she’s decent. He then orders biker chick to disrobe and take off all her clothes, which she does completely (except for her white socks) in the middle of my office, in the middle of the effin afternoon, in the middle of midtown Manhattan. I’m checking her out and R.A. explains that she happens to be one of his many jizz guzzling she whores. As I’m taking this whole experience in, her, blue eyes, round nipples, brown bush and all, a pile of clothes laying in a pile on my office floor, R.A. seemingly coming from a real humanitarian and compassionate place, sincerely proceeds to ask me if I wants a piece and hit. He even offers to wait while me and biker chick do our business behind closed doors.
Now, I love me a piece of steaming hot snatch more than a crackhead loves rocks, but somehow, the image of me getting wet with something already moist from R.A.’s bodily excretions was not appealing. Plus, I wanted to maintain my professional relationship with dude. I respectfully declined, she promptly put her shit back on and me and R.A. naturally resumed our meeting, like this weird shit never took place, and with no further interruptions. Looking back on that shit, that had to have been one of the most bizarre experiences I’ve experienced. R.A., being the good dude that he is, eventually went on to jerk me on that deal and about 10 thousand ($10,000) dollars that he owed me (still does). He decided, after all the work I had done, that he’d feel a whole lot better hiring a T.I. attorney. I was initially pissed off as fuck, but in retrospect, and after the above mentioned scenario, I can’t be mad at him.
NOTE TO R.A.: Dude, if you read this, you know who I am, especially since we stay friends on facebook and shit. Don’t go all taking this airing out personal and shit. I still got love for you, my white homie. Forget about how you effin jerked me (even though I haven’t) and keep making your music. The world deserves at least one hot joint from you.
Courtesy of Byron Crawford