so get up and do a little dance. the mighty mc came to this town in a space pod after his hometown planet exploded after the annual love fiesta got a little out of control and too many of the ladies in the house said hooooooeeee.
raised by amazons in a lion preserve in west afrique marc brown learned to bust with the rhymes well before dmc’s rock box but that chapter in us history is often overlooked because no one wants to think that a white man brought rap to the brotha. all i gotta say is the truth will set you free, people, so testify and give it up to marc with a c.
brown delivers. so much so that hollywood records wanted tsar to name their first record “the marc brown years” but at the last minute just called it tsar. big mistake.
while looking for his canoe and his blue ox, mark did the austrailian crawl across the sea and landed in seatle where he was raised in the trees by hippies. they gave him his american name which was alot easier to say than click click but maybe not.
the ladies loved cool b as they still do but back then he didnt know how to fend them off as delicately as he does now. back then he was too honest. he would make them all cry and it only made them fall harder for him.
one day he threw a frisbee over the head of dave grohl barefoot in the park. he said, “my bad” which was the first time anyone had ever said that and ran to retrive the flying disc. he found it on the penisula of isla vista some 1600 miles away. he looked around and felt instantly at home. he signed up for classes at the junior college, got himself a show on the radio where he played hip hop and smooth jazz and a legend was born.
marc brown was going to night school.
a few years later he transfered to ucsb and ran for president. he got 60 votes but the nexus said he got 69 and put it on the front page. all the ladies put their hands in the air, and shook em around like they just didnt care.
marc brown got so much tail in college that i used to walk behind him just to get hit by the shrapnel.
his record collection was always bigger than mine. it was a party school with hundreds of kegs a night. thousands on weekends and if you saw the mc was there you knew you were in the right place. i cant tell you how many concerts i went to that he was there too. skynyrd, lyle lovitt, tom ball and kenny sultan, hank jr., yanni. marc always was there with his backstage laminents, always an extra one for me and a cold frosty one in a plastic cup. he’d lick his hand and smear his hand stamp on mine. i’d give him a tab of acid and we’d call it even.
ah, memories.
so heres to you Mr. Birthday Boy Blogger Web Design Loft Dweller Karaoke Singing Keeping it Real Man.
you’re the true american hero of the day. and an example to all of us. and by the way, i ganked the top most blog pic from his site. thanks, cheif!