Your mom busted in and said, “What’s that noise?”
Oh Beastie Boys, what a fucking bummer. I’ve been listening to you since I was 3 years old. The death of MCA hasn’t made me want to squat a shit and punch a hobo this much since Heavy D ate his last nacho.
I met MCA at an art opening in Brooklyn about 6 years ago. The gallery was showing this amazing graffiti artist. He came up to me with a friendly, approachable air and said,
“Yo, I think these shrimps taste like dirty gravel.”
I smiled and said
“I’ll get the catering manager, sir.”
I was secretly drunk.
I look back on that fond encounter and wonder if I was on his mind when he passed. I know when it’s my time, our brief time spent together will probably be my last thoughts.
Rest in peace dear MCA, You are most ill, and I hope you are in heaven right now, rhyming and stealing.
Swellco & Swellco 24534b