If you missed this on Dateline, the entire Tim Dog scandal can now be found on YouTube. The first part is above, and the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth and eleventh parts of the special can be found by following each of those links I just dropped on that ass.
The entire story is pretty hilarious, and, if you ask me, these dames were asking for it. Just look at the track-listing for Penicilin on Wax – “Low Down N*gga,” “I’ll Wax Anybody,” “Dogs Gonna Getcha,” “Going Wild In The Penile” — and tell me this sounds like a motherfucker you should be dating, sleeping with, and trusting with your money. And aside from the fact that Tim Blair is thee one and only Tim Dog, the man’s online dating name was “PerfectOne69.” If that isn’t a red flag, I don’t know what is.
If Verbal or I have somehow yet to offend you before on TECB, this Kool Keith vinyl will certainly get the job done. Shit, even I’m offended by this women’s gaping butt-hole staring me in the face, but that’s neither here nor there. The photo, however, is completely relevant to the story I’m about to tell. So…
The other day, a FaceBook friend asked me to join a “yearbook group” or something of the sort that will keep me in touch with the fine folk I graduated Ponaganset High School with. Although I declined, much like every other invitation from people who I’ve barely spoken with before in my life, the invite reminded me of my infamously lame quote in the senior yearbook: “Keep it real.”
I wasn’t that lame, though. Honestly, I was a hip-hop-obsessed smart-ass weed-head who was one-upped by the yearbook staff. When the students of the graduating class were asked if we’d like a quote to go along with our senior picture, I took the opportunity to have the masterful words of Kool Keith be printed next to my smiling, seventeen-year-old face until the end of time. My submission was a direct quote from Keith’s “Keep it Real…Represent.” It read these exact words:
“Keep it real. Represent, what? My nuts!”
I fully expected the quote to be rejected on sight, but, much to my surprise, the yearbook staff chopped the lyric down and made me look like the biggest of goose eggs. Regardless. Thanks to the surplus of chron, hash, and (supposed) opium circulating throughout my crew post-graduation, I was able to laugh it off pretty quickly. And at least now, in my drug-free days, it makes for a decent story to tell.
Here are both versions of the song. The original recording from Ultra’s Big Time, Keith’s overlooked collaborative effort with Tim Dog:
And the version heard on Sex Style, Keith’s second solo venture from ’97:
Now go ahead and yuck it up in the comment section. I’ll continue representing the scrotum. Peace to Kool Keith.
