posted on October 16, 2012 08:00
Ah, St. Louis, home of The Arch, Cardinal baseball, what used to be Anheuser-Busch and the most overrated custard stand in the entire western hemisphere. The birthplace of Vincent Price, Jon Hamm, Jenna Fischer and Kevin Kline, who’s most significant achievement is getting to fuck Phoebe Cates, owner of the most beautiful pair of gonzas to ever grace a movie screen.
Yes, our little, Midwestern city has produced quite a few gems, and few hit the world with as much force as our own Cornell Iral Haynes, Jr., or “Nelly”. In the summer of 2000, Nelly’s “Country Grammar” put St. Louis on the rap map, with his slurred drawl, quick pace and bumping hits. Jesus, I sound like a reviewer, but I did dig that fucking album.
Nelly shot to stardom and was soon also a darling of Hollywood, as well as the music industry, still always giving props to his STL roots. I don’t care much for the term “sold out”, whereas doing what generates the greatest amount of cash and overall stardom, I can never hold against anybody. That said, Nelly sold the fuck out in short order and quickly released a shitstorm of garbage albums, never retaining that swagger he had in “Country Grammar”. Regardless, I’ve always liked Nelly, in the sense of how you “like” your celebrities you don’t even know, but you know what I mean.
Well, it seems our old native son got caught up in the middle of an unfortunate misunderstanding last week in Texas. His tour bus was pulled over and just happened to be carrying a loaded gun and enough marijuana and heroin for 9-rounds of Frisbee golf and to garner 2-week’s worth of blowjobs from desperate junkies in North St. Louis or South Jefferson County.
I have no problem with the loaded gun. Travelling as I do for a living, you’re practically insane not to carry one, and besides, he’s a goddamned rapper, or used to be, and he can’t go risking street cred by running around the country with pepper fucking spray. The drugs, on the other hand, shame – shame. And I’m not talking the pot either, the use of that shit moves my needle not one iota and I’ll likely do a column one day on the ridiculous amount of time and money spent to prosecute its’ fans. But the heroin is bad, my friends, as in “suck a dick for $3”, “sell your baby”, “rob your family” bad.
For the love of Vin Diesel, man, you get to fuck Ashanti, you don’t need heroin. If mounting that fine split-tail on the regular ain’t a big enough high for you, this saddens me. Wait…what’s that you say? Oh, my bad, rest easy folks. It turns out Nelly was absolutely innocent and still a local son we can be proud of. Apparently, a member of his “crew” (all rappers have “crews”) has copped to being the owner of the gun and ALL the drugs. That’s right, ALL 36-mother fucking bags of heroin! The dude’s got a serious problem, and I imagine will soon have a serious bank account to return home to from jail for his loyalty.
It’s nice to have scapegoats and I highly recommend them for all people of fame. White people could take a hint from this and travel in “crews” and “posses” as well. Ted Kennedy could’ve passed Chappaquiddick off on “Little Poo” or “Fat Earl” had he just thought to employ some hanger-on’s. And had Robert Wagner thought to bring along a few shitwads on the boat instead of another famous person like Christopher Walken, that mystery could’ve been explained away years ago.
To see what travelling solo gets you in the Hollywood world, look no further than O.J. Simpson. He elects not to surround himself with yes-men on that fateful California evening and the next thing you know, he’s framed for double murder. Should’ve had some losers from your youth along for your knife party, Juice, and maybe you would’ve gotten away with it…oh…wait.
Anyway, lots of lessons to learn here. No matter how famous you are or the quality of gash you’re lucky enough to bed, temptation is always there, kiddos. Shitting money, sleeping until noon daily and travelling the world at will isn’t good enough for some. I just don’t get it. I can forgive Nelly for shitty movies, shittier albums and even that ridiculous fucking cheek band-aid, but have some balls and cop to your shit, bro. A fall guy is nice but you’re not fooling anybody. You’ve done The Lou a dirty, Nelly – and it makes me feel icky inside. I want to believe you, but…
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