Envy And The Shit

It's funny being a top notch music producer. For the past thirty minutes or so 16 bars of a song that basically involves some kicks, some snares, and some bass have been thuddering, snapping, and wibbling between a pair of excellent, individually powered KRK Systems monitors (which is what we top notch music producers call speakers) that sit on either side of my desk, trapping my face in a rainbow of dense repetitive noise. Envy is sat on the sofa wittering rhythmically to herself.

Envy writes pretty damn quick, actually. She's quicker than most rappers I've seen. She's better than most rappers too. Envy will shit on pretty much any emcee you throw at her. Envy drinks laxative. The world is her toilet.

Actually, no word of a lie, she just looked up from her pad with some trumph, and said, "there, finished." She followed that with, "can I use your toilet?"

John Karborn was in my toilet for 23 minutes this morning. I haven't dared go in since.

What was Little Wayne's latest "I Am The Shit" metaphor? Something about leaving skid marks on every sofa he sits on. I think that's more likely to be a literal thing, actually. Ask Ghostface, a ton of coke will make you shit yourself.

Guess what I'm doing tonight, dear reader?

Pilates.

I'm a stretch, armstrong.