R.I.P. Fabric 1998-2011

Celebrity radio DJ, Fabric The Savage, passed away today due to complications from cancer.  He was a great friend to many and a brother to Bumoltua.  He will be missed.  We love you buddy.  Pour out a little milk.

http://bigghostnahmean.blogspot.com/

I've become somewhat insecure about my blogging skills lately.  How can I possibly enlighten anybody out there when we all have Ghostface Killah's words of wisdom available right at our finger tips.  Incredible.  This should all be collected into one huge volume, bound in wack MCs skin, and entitled The Bible Part II.  Please check it out.  http://bigghostnahmean.blogspot.com/

Me and Bumoltua nursing our hangovers from an office inside a volcano

I'm Rodney Dezmund and I've lost my goddamned mind.

I've been staying in Brooklyn, NY the past couple of days with Bumoltua of The Suite D's, and the smells and sounds of New York have loosened a couple of my screws.  I'm out here to promote the upcoming Hardcore Jollies show and have been drinking, socializing, swearing, fucking, shopping, and spitting non-stop.  I love my people, but I can't wait to get back west to California.  Hopefully there'll be a Hardcore Jollies/Suite D's west coast tour soon.  I've had enough of the midwest and east.  These fuckers never put the bottle down and I don't either when I'm around them.  I love them, but they are crazy and dangerous.  They are the future.  And I am an insane little penguin ghost.

New artwork by Pico De Gallo of Suite D's fame

I'm in NYC and stopped in to see Bumoltua at his workplace today.  While I was there I ran into Pico and he sketched this cute little picture for me.  Not too bad, heh?

The Hardcore Jollies

Make sure to stop into Freddy's Bar on June 10th to check out my homeboys, The Hardcore Jollies, live at 8PM!  I've been representing these fine young musicians for the past few months and I can already tell that they're going to be the next big thing.  Freddy's is located at 627 5th Ave. in Brooklyn.  Get there early and get licked by the band!  Check out their site by clicking the image to the left.

56 Whales are coming. Stay tuned and check out my new bandana.

Greatest lyricist of all time dead at 62

Rest in peace Gil Scott Heron. 

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part XVI

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  A lot of people don't seem to think that I am Rodney Dezmund.  It seems there have been some rumours leading to a lot of confusion and gossip in regards to who I, Rodney Dezmund, actually am or at least claim to be.  I, Rodney Dezmund, have nothing to hide.  No, it is not true that Rodney Dezmund and Nick "Wacky Back" West are one in the same.  True, Mr. West and I, Rodney Dezmund, have yet to be in the same room together and actually meet eachother face to face, but I, Rodney Dezmund, do consider Mr. West a very good friend and keep in constant contact with him through emails, phone calls, and letters.  I, Rodney Dezmund, have nothing to gain by posing as Mr. West and the same is vice versa true in Mr. West's case.  Above is a photograph of me, Rodney Dezmund, and to the right is a photograph of Mr. West.  As you can see, there is absolutely no resemblance, but keep the rumours coming.  We get a kick out of it!

While I'm on this whole mixed up one guy isn't who he is but is actually one in the same as this guy subject, I'd like to bring up the controversy over whether or not Bumoltua of The Suite D's and Lynx Rufus of The Hardcore Jollies are actually one in the same.  Listen, I, Rodney Dezmund, have worked closely with both of these guys for the past year or so and I can tell you flat out that these rumours are all nonsense.  Rufus and Bumoltua actually can't stand eachother.  I tried to get some shows booked with The Suite D's and The Hardcore Jollies on the same bill and had to cancel after a huge fight broke out between the two bands in my office over a missing pack of cigarettes.  Funny thing is, nobody in either band smokes!  There were no cigarettes to begin with!  Too much testosterone, crazy eyes, crotch grabbing, and spitting going on between those two bands.  Deep down, they're really all good sensitive guys and I, Rodney Dezmund, am trying to patch things up, but, at least for now, there is absolutely no way I'll ever put all those guys in the same room or even city or state with eachother!  No!  No way in Hell that Bumoltua and Lynx Rufus are the same person.  Bumoltua has short hair and Rufus has long hair.  What more proof could you ask for?  Bumoltua is on the left, Lynx Rufus is to the right.  Let's hope these guys shake hands one day.

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part XV

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Recycle.

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part XIV

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Charles Mingus.  His balls should be on the American flag.  Shut up and listen.  Better get hit in your soul.

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part XIII

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Get into it or eat a urinal cake.  1987

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part XII

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Blog schmog!  You got me?  I walked around southern California for about three hours today.  They say it never rains in southern Cali, but it was pouring down today!  I was looking for some broads or some burgers or something fun to get into, but this place is pretty dry.  At least as far as broads and burgers go.  Other than that, the place was sopping wet, and I got completely soaked.  I saw a man eating an orange scream at a bus that passed by.  I'm not sure why, but I'm sure he had a good reason.  I found some jewelry store and bought a gold Rolex watch for two-hundred bucks!  The damn thing is beautiful and probably worth a couple grand.  I wore it through the rain and it held up pretty well.  Still no broads or burgers though.  I found a taco place.  It smelled great, but it was filthy so I passed it.  I'm still wet and hungry.  I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to keep this blog going after I reach Roman numerals that I don't know.  I could use regular numbers, but that's a bore.  I wish I had the internet so I could look up all those big Roman numerals.  Oh, well.  My Rolex watch only goes up to twelve.  I'm stuck after that.  I wish I was a Roman right now.

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part XI

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Can you hear those wonderful sounds seductively calling you in your sleep, church like bells chiming, wooshes wooshing ever so gently, guitars strumming with exotic foreign accents, bass lines that slither under the belly of a cobra, and drums that beat to the rhythm of the motions of your most enjoyable adult experience?  Those are the new songs of The Suite D's.  I advise you to tune it all out until the album is available for commercial purchase.  Although their latest recordings have not yet been released and are currently classified as top secret material, there have been rumours that some of these songs have leaked into the dream world and are being illegally mentally downloaded and passed around through some sort of psychotronic metaphysical cult of gnome like creatures of a shared community subconscience that the ancient Egyptians referred to as the Ka.  Every person begins life with seven Kas that make up their personal spiritual structure.  In times not so long ago in the past the Ka 1 through 7 occupied only the body in which it possessed.  However in modern times due to results of various ecological reasons including air pollution, hormones in food, pesticides, foul language, etc., certain people have reported cases of Ka hopping in which one or more of their Kas jump from their body to another with no particular direction or intention.  It seems as though the Kas have gone mad.  Evidently their have been Kas that have jumped from certain members present at some of the recent recording dates of The Suite D's.  I have been swamped with reports of people from India to Indiana who have been humming and singing songs of The Suite D's that have not been released in any physical way shape or form.  As the spiritual advisor of The Suite D's, I have hired a team of lawyers, exorcists, shamans, swamis, and voodoo priests from across the globe to help get to the bottom of these cases.  It will be a tough battle, but we are optimistic that we will walk away victorious.  Meanwhile, the drummer of The Suite D's, Quad L, has recently obtained a record amount of 37 Kas.  Among the seven members of The Suite D's there are presently 121 Kas!  They are working hard at wrapping up the album of your dreams.  Some Ka named Harvey David Load just wrote a spectacular new doo wop country song in the soul of Bumoltua.  And to those of you lucky enough to have already heard this music, well, I'll see you and all your Kas in court!
I would also like to report that I have been hired as the new manager of New York City's band of Lassie and lettuce loving misfits, The Hardcore Jollies!  Along with The Suite D's, The Hardcore Jollies, and the new line of electric toothbrushes/tonsil massagers from James & Palmer, 2011 is looking to be quite a productive year!  Let's toast, shall we?

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part X

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  The images above are from a German movie called Magdalena Possessed By The Devil which is supposedly some cheap knock off of some big budget Hollywood flick I never heard of called The Exorcist.  Regardless, the film is great as you can plainly see from the stills shown here.  This broad has sex with an invisible demon and tells a priest to give her communion in her vagina.  I think that's where the idea for the movie Titanic came from.
Anyway, make sure you tune into http://www.goldenstring.org/ every Wednesday from 5 PM to 6 PM for The Jackson Perdue Filthy Hour.  There will be some great music played as well as some heavy breathing and sexy moaning.  Special guests on the show will include members of The Suite D's, The Fruit Man, and quite possibly even an interview with yours truly.  Make your life a happy one.  Grind harder.  Grind faster.  Grind wetter.  Grind on with Jackson Perdue and his special guest freaks.

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part IX

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Do you know what this thing is right here?  It's a motherfucking Phurba.  It destroys disease, demons, curses, and it can pierce through your skull if you wanna get down like that.  I have one of these things.  I didn't even know what it was for about three years.  Now I know.  It's a Phurba.  Look, I love everybody, but seriously, I'll use this damn thing if I have to.  You know who else owns one of these things?  R. Kelly.  I read about it in his autobiography.  That's right.  R. Kelly owns a motherfucking Phurba, and he's used it.  That's what makes him fly.  Can you fly?  Didn't think so.  Get yourself a Phurba, baby.  Come fly with me and R. Kelly.

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part VIII

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Hard Times starring Charles Bronson is one of the most explosive booty stomping documentaries ever.  Back in the 70's, Charles Bronson hired his old buddy and fellow ass kicker, James Coburn, to manage him in a series of bare knuckled fighting matches.  Bronson took on the fighting name "Chaney", and Coburn began calling himself "Speed".  They dressed in depression era clothing and roamed the country in search of worthy opponents.  Director Walter Hill followed them and caught all the action on camera.  Bronson annihilated his opponents one by one.  He worked his way to the top and proved himself to be one of the baddest motherfuckers the cinema has ever seen.  Forget those overrated pussys Chuck Norris and Ben "Gigli" Affleck.  Bronson was the real deal.  He'd have those two shittin' in their pants before he even started rolling up his sleeves.  So go out and buy Hard Times.  Yes, it is a documentary.  I don't care what you say.  So was Death Wish III so fuck you.  And fuck Ben Affleck and Chuck Norris too.

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part VII

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Gigli is probably the most incredible film ever made.  I'm baffled that this film was not nominated for one of those Oscar things.  Ben Affleck is so damn tough in this movie he makes Charles Bronson look like Shaggy from the Scooby Doo show.  J-Lo proves that she is just Jenny from the block.  Her street smarts and ability to handle a ray gun prove that she could easily go toe to toe with Eskimo sit-com starlet, Sarah Palin.  I'd hate to be stuck in an igloo with those two at the wrong time of the month.  Justin Bartha's portrayal of a mush brained alien from the planet Zipnar is so authentic and moving I have to keep a box of Kleenex near me every time I view the film.  Just in case my penis sneezes.  Christopher Walken turns in the finest performance of his career as an ex-race car driver down on his luck and living off of discarded shoe strings.  The scene with him and a group of swamp rats singing along to an entire Hootie & The Blowfish cd will go down as being one of the greatest scenes in cinematic history.  The casting director should be commended for their choice of placing Al Pacino in the role of an Asian chef working in an Italian restaurant.  It was nice to finally see Mr. Pacino in a full frontal nude scene.  The beach scenes were very authentic.  Supposedly they used real women in bikinis for these shots and it shows.  No matter how much film technology has improved over the years, real women with fake titties will always look more impressive than those CGI generated bimbos.  So much hard work was put into this low budget feature.  It's great to see all of these big name Hollywood celebrities willing to work for next to nothing in order to take their craft to a higher level of artistic achievement.  Gigli truly is the Citzen Kane of films!

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part VI

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Guitarist of neo-pre-post band The Hardcore Jollies, Mitch Masterson, has a reputation for being quite a hot headed and violent tempered thug.  News stories of Masterson's run ins with the law seem to surface weekly and they're usually a result of his insane outbursts and uncontrollable rage.  At least that's what the media would have you believe.  Mitch seems to have spent the better part of his life looking out at the world from behind iron bars and barbed wire fences.  And when he's not seeing the world from behind bars, he's usually seeing it from behind some two dollar hooker's big ass.  Mitch Masterson lives fast and hard.  However, there is a more gentle side to Mitch that is rarely seen by the general public.  Over the weekend, I had the pleasure to visit Mitch at his upstate New York mansion and listen to some of his new material.  Mitch and his lovely wife of the moment, Twatta, cooked a huge feast consisting of homemade haggis, deviled eggs, and instant mashed potatos drenched in ketchup.  After our meal, Mitch took me into his six-million dollar recording studio, lit up a huge blunt, and threw on some of the tracks from the upcoming Jollies album.  But my attention soon drifted from the sounds booming from the speakers to the incredible collection of Lassie memorabilia that adorned the walls and shelves of the huge studio.  I found it unusual that a man with a reputation like Mitch would be interested, actually, obsessed with such a wholesome all American TV show.  I asked him what it was about Lassie that sparked his interest.  Mitch turned the music down and became very serious.  I thought for a moment he might hit me.  He removed his sunglasses, rubbed his eyes, sighed, and took a long drag from the blunt.  As he exhaled, he explained to me in a very soft spoken and reserved voice that he has felt as though he's been stuck in a well his entire life.  There's never been anybody there to pull him up when he's down.  Lassie represents hope to Mitch.  It's a hope that one day a saviour will hear his screams of pain and run for help.  Pull him out of his deep and dark well.  When Mitch was a youngster, in and out of Juvie, the only show he was allowed to watch while locked up was Lassie.  It was his only guidance and what gave him the little morals that he now has.  When Mitch feels the urge to smash and kill, he thinks about Lassie.  Sometimes it works.  Usually it doesn't.  I asked Mitch why he doesn't have any dogs or pets.  His response?  "I hate fuckin' animals!  I don't even let Lynx in here aside from laying down his vocal parts.  That son of a bitch chewed a huge hole in my ten-thousand dollar sofa once!  Fucker thinks he's a bobcat or some shit.  Bej had to hide all my guns while the other guys held me on the floor and calmed me down.  I was gonna kill that little asshole!  No pets for me, Fucker!  No fuckin' way.  Lassie?  Now, Lassie's different.  She wasn't a dog.  She was a goddess.  There will never be another."

Mitch let me snap some photographs of the memorabilia.  Among the items were a few lunchboxes, an autographed photo of Timmy, a sample of Lassie's fecal matter, and a rare photograph of Lassie with welterweight world champion boxer, Emile Griffith.  Quite a unique collection!

I'm Rodney Dezmund Part V

I'm Rodney Dezmund.  Take some time for yourself today.  Look around you.  Play in the snow.  Or sniff some flowers if they're around you.  Or some panties.  Run yourself a warm bubble bath and light some candles and some incense.  Put some rain forest sounds on the stereo system.  Dip an apple in some caramel and put a stick in it and lick it.  Get a rub.  Go to an orgy with a bunch of hippy devil worshippers.  Let a butterfly catch you.  Look at birds through binoculars.  Experiment with explosives.  Today is your day.  Don't throw it in the trash.