The Lab

Hot Damn.

T.I. featuring Kanye West, Jay-Z, and Lil’ Wayne.

On a Kanye beat that samples my girlfriend.

Can you dig it?

So many things I like about New York: tourists who hog the sidewalks taking pictures of Broadway signs at every intersection (look Phil!, Broadway and 34th! Broadway and 33rd! And OMG, Broadway and 32nd! New York is crazy!), 2 hour commute rides into Queens after bar closing times (this train will run express all the way up the Bronx, then go into Brooklyn, and because of tunnel construction, will be going to Staten Island instead of Queens. Sorry for the delay folks), the fact that you can’t get a cab when it’s pouring, the fact that pretty much when you’re born here you will be cursed with being forever jaded.

But it’s always nice when really creative, smart, funny people get together and make movies about my hometown which, unlike most people I know, consists of 5 boroughs and over 6 million people (from over 90% of the world). Check out the trailer for New York I Love You, scheduled to come out Feb. 13th 2009 (anyone want to be my Valentine?):

This: “David” (1501-1504), a masterpiece of Renaissance sculpture and one of Michelangelo’s greatest works. Perhaps the single most recognizable sculpture in the history of art, “David” has become regarded as a symbol of strength, youthful human beauty and anatomical perfection.

That: Michael Phelps. He’s super hot.

My vote: That that that. That.

I am to Olympic perving what Michael Phelps is to Olympic swimming. Sure, Olympic swimming is an actual sport — a grueling physical art that demands total dedication from its practitioners — whereas Olympic perving basically involves me sitting on my ass in front of the TV watching beautiful people do stuff I can’t do while I shovel pork dumplings into my mouth and make ridiculous remarks like “Wow, that was a big splash upon entry!” and “He didn’t even stick the landing!” and “What a low degree of difficulty!” You know what’s not difficult, R.J.? Critiquing people who are fundamentally better than you from the comfort of your own home. When they can’t even hear you. While you eat a fudge brownie. Fine… fudge brownies.

You laugh, perhaps, but Olympic perving does share one very important thing in common with Olympic swimming: the USA is very accomplished at both. Don’t even act like you don’t know what I mean. Yes, I’m on the couch staring a little too intently during the synchronized platform diving, and yes, I am perhaps a bit too interested in the finer points of beach volleyball, but so, my friends, are you. Don’t throw me under the bus here people. We’re all a bunch of pervs. Don’t deny it. Embrace it.

It is in the spirit of embracing our shamelessly pervtastic selves that I present some of the hottest Olympic athletes of the 2008 Summer Games. There’s a real smorgasbord of Olympian hotness this year, so please excuse inevitable oversights.

JAMES BLAKE, Tennis

Um… real hot. And real good at tennis. Bye.

ALLISON STOKKE, Track & Field

Seriously Allison? Are you actually this hot *AND* holding a huge pole? At the same time? With your golden brown midriff showing? And your mouth kind of open? Hey Al, here’s an idea… Why don’t you just spear all of us through the chest with that giant pole of yours and get it over with already. Slash I love you. (Note: I’m not sure Allison Stokke is even competing at the Olympics, but she does a track and field event, so whatevs.)

DAVID BOUDIA, Diving

Dear David,

You look a little elf-like sometimes, but in a caring about children slash wearing a really tiny speedo sort of way. Thanks for that.

XoXo,
R.J.

AMANDA BEARD, Swimming

Amanda Beard poses nude to help save animals of fur farms. Good citizens are fun.

BIA & BRANCA FERES, Synchronized Swimming

Um… is this some sort of sick joke? Slash I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something so right about Bia and Branca competing in synchronized swimming, a sport the goal of which is to appear virtually indistinguishable from one another. Hmmmm… what could it be? (Note: I’m also not sure B&B are competing at the Olympics, but they do an Olympic sport, so again, whatevs.)

MICHAEL PHELPS, Swimming

Sometimes words commit a violence.

This would be one of those times.

Dear China,

I have a little confession to make: I haven’t always liked you. But let’s face it Big C, you haven’t exactly gone out of your way over the past few decades to make yourself super popular. What with your systematic subversion of the state power clause to imprison those who are critical of your government, your law forbidding the advocation of independence and self-determination for territories you consider to be under your jurisdiction, your spirited policy of Han Chinese cultural integration towards Tibet, your treatment of your own rural and factory workers, your BFF relationship with Sudan in relation to Darfur, the whole organ harvesting thing, your (in)famous One-Child Policy, your well-documented, lively history of using government-sponsored intimidation tactics to get exactly what you want exactly when you want it from those who have no possible hope of opposing you — I mean, it’s no wonder Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch are all over you like white on rice. (Get it China? See what I did there? I used an idiom that referenced wittily your staple agricultural product? I’m here all week…)

Listen PRC, I know I sound like a little bitch, but I’m being honest when I tell you that this relationship we’re in feels a bit abusive to me. I really want to like you… you’ve got an awe-inspiring track record of cultural and aesthetic accomplishment, tremendous natural beauty, a warm, generous, industrious populace, a rich culinary tradition, a Wheel of the Zodiac with fun animals on it, a Great Wall, you’re good at math… I mean, there’s so much to like! But then, every time I start to fall for you again, you do some dumbass thing on the international stage and I’m left in tears wondering why I ever decided to trust you in the first place. I’m tired of defending you to my friends…

That said, I admit I’ve been impressed with you lately. I feel like… like you’ve changed somehow. It’s not just that you’ve stopped leaving your beard trimmings in the sink, or that you’ve started taking out the trash and putting the toilet seat down (though I’ve noticed!) — it’s things like this:

And this:

And this:

But… but wait just one minute! Really China? Really? Do you honestly think me so untutored in the ways of love? Are you really using an expensive, expertly-engineered, highly-choreographed system of smoke and mirrors to distract me from your less attractive qualities? Are you actually attempting with fancy fireworks and glittering period costumes to blind me, rendering invisible your slimy underbelly? Have you really tried to showcase only the most talented and beautiful of your people while hiding from my view the thousands of people who have no doubt been disenfranchised in order to make possible this delicious pyrotechnic display?

But do I really care that much? No. No I don’t.

So thank you, China, for these past few days. I’m not sure what the cards have in store for us, but for now, I’m kind of in love with you.

XoXo,
R.J.

P.S. Remember that whole switch-a-roo you pulled a few days ago? You know, the one where you made the cute girl get up in front of everyone and pretend to sing while the real singer, the one you decided wasn’t cute enough to be seen by the world, was kept hidden away somewhere?

Yup. That was hilarious.

Featuring Kanye West, Lupe Fiasco, and Pusha T (from Clipse). The song has been out for a bit but I think this video is new. It’s the clean version of the song which is wack so go download the real version. Lupe’s verse is deadly.

BLUEPRINT 3 from kwest on Vimeo.

I was at the tuesday night show. You know, the one Jay-Z didn’t show up to. Still, it was hot.

Serena, if you haven’t seen this…you’re welcome.