Turnip Tuesday: Fetty Wap – “My Way” (Remix Ft. Drake)

they should call me Jaaames, coz I’m goin Harden this bish

Thank 6-God this happened, for two reasons! One, we’re SUPER ready for the wackest #1 Hip Hop Single since Soulja Boy’s Crank DatTrap Queen” to disappear. Two, this puts the young guy past the 1 Hit Wonder stage.  Like the Future and The Beatles Migos will tell ya, Drake remixing your record means radio rotations, dj spins, and digital streams go through the roof.  iLoveMakonnen knows this so much that he might even pee from grammy nominations. That’s what the man does to records with little to no exposure. Fetty Wap doesn’t mind that happening one bit, if you let him tell it.

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Potato Of The Day Episode 32 – Potato Noir Part VII

madamecrinklecuteI hop on the horn and learn that Madame Crinkélcute is the headliner for a small jazz lounge downtown, only a couple of blocks away. I decide to hoof it. The rain always helps me think. I pull the collar of my jacket up around my ears, an overcoat cocoon against the splashing slog. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline, the lack of drink, or the lack of sleep, but my hand’s got the shakes. I shove it deep into my pocket and ignore it.

The door to the lounge is bathed in the neon glow of Crinkélcute’s name, a pulsing, permanent ad, not yet peaking in popularity, the inevitable decline into sad, washed-out irrelevance hiding on the other side, just a plug’s pull away. For now though, she’s in. And she’s big. Her poster is checkerboarded on the lounge’s door, her image all sex and style, only a few squares from the pattern missing, masturbatory mausoleums for aging men.

From the moment I walk in, she has me curled around her finger like cigarette smoke. She glides through the room to meet me, shadows breaking apart in her golden light. I’m mesmerized by her. She knows it, too. She’s had that effect on men her entire life. What she’s still doing here, I have no idea. She’s more Hollywood than Potato Town, but then again, even the best placed flytrap catches a few butterflies.

She asks if I want a drink. I want to tell her I want more than that, instead gladly accepting a bourbon and ice, a heavy-handed pour, more than two fingers to tease. She takes a seat across from me, martini in hand, her first sip a tattooed red kiss on the glass’s lip. We make small talk. Her eyes always two levels deeper than mine, searching for something. The drink settles me down, and I remember why I’m here.

I bring up my work and she’s not surprised. I bring up the Russet and she plays coy. I bring up his death and that’s when she breaks down. Turns out even angels can cry. She comes clean about everything she’s done. But all that’s she done is hardly a crime. Says she called in a favor from a powerful guy, wanted to know for certain that the Russet had moved on, to find out if it was true when he told her she was the other one. Crinkélcute’s no killer, just a victim of the first and oldest disease, that toxic decay called love.

I don’t console her. I just press for the other potato’s name, and move on. Sometimes it’s best just to leave, swallow down the longing. That’s the way it goes in this life. That’s the way it goes when you forever live in the shadows of crime.

I call back in to the station. I need a last known address. Name? Sweet Potato.

Top 5 Terrible Sounding Movies With Potential

Ben’s on vacation so we enlisted the help of our former radio intern friend, Leland, to help preview some summer movies that might or might not suck.

I love movies. I went to school for movies, I actually spend money to go OUT and see movies, and I love to critique them. I’m not going to create a podcast about how much I love movies like Doug. I’m also not going to give myself cancer from years of choosing what to do with my thumbs after movies like Roger. I am simply going to go see movies and hopefully enjoy them. And probably not invite Siya.

For this reason, my favorite movie season is during the summer where the popcorn is a plenty and the mindless action is front and center. No laughably pretentious indie films (The name of Zach Braff’s artistic ability called Wish I Was Here), no putting-your-fingers-under-your-friend’s-nose-after-getting-lucky-styled-Oscar-bait (Sorry Birdman, I was happy to see you pretend not to edit at home), and no studio produced, between season, face-farting (Fuck you, Chappie. I liked District 9, too).

Like most other blogs and websites leading into the summer season, I could give you a list of films that I CAN’T WAIT FOR. AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON! MAD MAX: FURY ROAD! JURASSIC WORLD! TOMORROWLAND! INSIDE OUT! ANT-MAN! Maybe even FANTASTIC FOUR…Oh fuck, that didn’t take long at all. I could go over these films in more detail but that’s boring, you’re probably going to go see them anyway. Instead I’m going to go over my “TOP FIVE TERRIBLE SOUNDING (BUT POTENTIALLY INTERESTING) SUMMER MOVIES!” and hopefully you’ll find one that tickles your fancy.
[Ben’s note: Also I’m going to pop in from time to time and say some shit because this is my blog and I’m bad at vacationing. PLOT TWIST.]

  1. Maggie (May 8), starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Abigail Breslin aka the terrible dancing girl in Little Miss Sunshine. Directed by Henry Hobson, Written by John Scott.

I’m writing this entire preview before Maggie comes out, but by the time it’s on the blog, Maggie will be in theaters. Ignore everything I’ve written here if word comes out it sucks. I may have just made fun of independent movies but this one seems way too beyond amazing to pass up. Arnie is a father in the Midwest whose daughter becomes infected by a zombie virus. Instead of going Rambo (Oh, I mean going Predator? How about going Last Action Hero?) on some zombie asses, the former World’s Strongest Man decides instead to Continue reading Top 5 Terrible Sounding Movies With Potential