Cutdog's 1st Annual "Get Str8 in '08" Blog

I dont know what it is about the end of the year that brings out the worst in folks. Maybe its because everyone's so resigned to falling back on good ol' New Year's resolutions to straighten out there lives. Well, this year, Grand Ol' Uncle Cutty is here to give you a good ol' fashioned cow prodding to get things goin'. But first I must pay tribute to my sponsors: Thunderbird Fine Wines

"What's the word?
Thunderbird
What's the price?
40 twice"

-Amen 

And now, with that said and done, we move to our first Resolution:

1. "I will stop buying drugs (and conducting other banned activities) with checks and other traceable forms of monetary compensation".-Roger Clemens and the 80 somethin' other buttheads who got jammed up buying steroids and HGH-WITH CHECKS!!!! Ok, now Cutdog's reknowned for his drinking exploits, but I can't say that I haven't done a drug or two, or three. Ok, fuckit, I get high too! Now, you happy??!! But never, ever, ever have I, or would I buy drugs or conduct any illegal activity with a check. Picture CutDog goin' to the strip joint buyin' some booty and when I'm done, I say "Who do I make this out to??" That broad will slap the shit outta me, post my picture up around town with the caption "Funny Money" placed right underneath it. And then when she realizes I'm the most famous drunk this side of Colin Farrell, she'll send copies of a check to the tabloids that reads:
Cutdog A. Blackmon
1614 Skidsview Way
(City and state omitted because I'm everywhere nucca!!)
Not on my watch...straight cash homey....

2. I will get my weight up next year-Bill Gates. Tough year for Billy. While his computers still hold an advantage in terms of market share, he has lost his spot as the "Boss Hog Chedda Getta". Ladies and gentlemen I introduce to you Mr. Carlos Slim. Google that shit.

3. "I will get out of the 1st round of the NBA Playoffs."-Tracy Mcgrady. What, you thought I was gonna throw Kobe "Allah in High Top Sneakers" Bryant under the bus? For those of you who don't know, I'm a Laker fan for life, so they have been granted total immunity from my wrath, besides they're in 5th place and sitting lovely. And, they're not quite built to win (yet), so I don't expect too much from them right now. But when you have the best Asian basketball player in the universe (Yao), a guy who plays D so hard he gets wrinkles in his head (Shane Battier, pause), and a PG who can pull the shirt off the guy who's guarding him while throwing the ball through his legs (Rafer Alston, double pause, no fuck that, triple pause) you better win something. Shout out to my nephew Eddie Wiley-I see you nucca!!!!

Now let me take a moment to reflect....I love all my nephews, during the good moments, bad moments, nevertheless they're all priceless moments. With that being said, its time to "draw blood".

4."I will not leave the house dressed as the easter egg unless its Easter or Halloween and I'm getting paid for it."-Nephew Jay. Now here is a guy who takes his wardrobe seriously, he puts thought into his lay each time he steps out, just like his Uncle. You dont get that amongst youngsters these days. But WTF was he thinking this night??? A cold night in December and he comes to a fight party dressed as a goddamned satin easter egg!!! Its December youngblood, gimme some red at least!!! I still luv ya Jay....

5. "I will let the dead rest in peace."-Nephew Feedy. Here's another one of my nephews that gets his style from his swaggerish Uncle. His specialty is his shoe game. True blue sneakerpimp....one time he came through with some Gucci sneakers, I swear MC Hammer's "U Can't Touch This" started playing in my head. Now seen here in this photo is a pair of $400 Loius Vuitton shoes that are entering the "Weekend at Bernie's" stage...you know, the movie about the two guys whose boss dies and they try to act like he's still alive. Have you seen it? Wasn't it kinda awkward watching them parade that guy around like he was still breathing, knowing he was dead long ago? I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, seeing them disrespect the deceased like that. Listen up nephew, and listen up carefully, if I catch the LVs in '08, I'm calling Bruce Willis and telling him "I see dead people"....

6."I will seriously consider burying the golden shoestring."-Favorite Nephew Fox. Now this is my favorite nephew. You see, Uncle Cutty has had his bad days; Cutty done had bad credit, Cutty done fell in love with freaks, Cutty done had insurance lapses on his car, Cutty done fucked his money up badly and needed Western Union, and who was there for me? Who got his favorite Uncle a nextel phone? Who rode Cutdog's back about lovin' these hoes so bad he seen the light? Who gave Cutdog rides to his apartment when no one else would? My nephew, my nigga who don't get no bigga Fox. Now, on to the matter at hand. How many of you have been keeping up with the second season of The Boondocks? If you have, then you've taken notice that this has been Young Riley's season to shine. I mean, that lil' nucca been spitting truth. Well there's this episode, where Riley's lobbying to get a platinum chain from the rap group Lethal Interjection. In a conversation he is having with Riley, Huey notes that Riley already has been given a chain by his Aunt Cookie, to which he replies "THAT AIN'T A CHAIN, THAT'S A NECKLACE!!!!!!!!"....Nephew, please step your jewel game up. Take a look at how young Reezy does it.

Until next time, I bid you all farewell, and get right in '08...

Rehab is for Suckers....

For the record, I've never been to rehab...fuck that. Just as you might expect, I am also a fan of the Amy Winehouse broad. That song she has about the tears drying on their own...its track 3 on CutDog's soundtrack to life. See, early in my drinking days, people wanted the Cutmaster to quit drinking, they told me "you can't be drunk when it's only 10a.m. in the mornin'!"...No problem, I started getting up at 12 in the afternoon. My boss thought he could fix me. I was doing security at one of those fancy mall strips, you know, one of those get-ups where the stores are outside and they serve smoothies....god, I hated those things but they mixed well with Smirnoff....anywho...they had me stationed by some fancy pants jewelry store but the customers kept calling mall management saying there was a sweaty Wino outside the door. So the calls would come through my radio, and I'd look around but find nothing. Pretty soon, I caught on, and so did management that it was yours truly they were complaining about. Didn't those idiot shoppers see my badge?? Im Top muthaphuckin' Flight security!!! I just had sweat rings under my arms and neck, and my forhead glistened a tad. Hell, half them customers had sweat rings too and they werent drunk...or were they?? Nevertheless, I was unjustifiably let go. I had good friends in high places thanks to the local watering hole: I threatened my former employer with a phone call from my Jewish lawyer (Cutdog isn't a racist, Jews just happen to be really good lawyers and this one happened to share my affinity for hard liquor, Western Movies, and Richard Pryor making him my friend)....he told me I had a case due to the fact that no-one ever saw me drinking more than a what appeared to be a smoothie (my nickname is Spiked Lee). Rather than making me famous in a Rodney King/Kevin Federline sense, they opted to settle out of court. CutDog opted to become hood rich and never work a day in his life. This ain't a case of the sun shining on a dog's ass...I am Tha Dog, but Cutty's no ass...I'll save that for that Bouty Hunter fella....

So what the fuck does this have to do with you, right? Where is the golden lesson? Well, rehab counselors (fuckit, all counselors) are insecure bastards. They need to be around people like you and me to feel good about themselves. They are the slim blondes who surround themselves with fatties to be the Hot Chick...well news flash: CutDog likes the Meaty. Anyway, I digress...They need you to cry in front of them to give them a false sense of relevance, like that Ed Norton guy in Fight Club. Who needs someone telling you that your natural lifestyle aint right? Did your great great great great great great grandfather Mr. Caveman have counselors telling them that it was wrong to bop your great great great great great great grandmother on the head with that club to make your great great great great great mother/father....NOPE!!! And cavepeople were brilliant enough to give us the gifts of fire and the art of BBQ'ing.

Next time someone feeds you some bullshit about how un-right your life is bitch slap them, and let their tears dry on their own...and if you spill your liquor doin' it....it, too, dries on its own.

Signing Off,
Tha Dog

Next Blog: People Who Will Never Be Shit in Life....

Allow Me to ReIntroduce Myself

Welcome to our family reunion: most of the folks here you've seen in pictures but never had a formal introduction. You've heard stories about a few of them: Uncle Preston sitting over by the punch fountain with the woman who's complexion obviously lets you know she's a guest. His face you can find on billboards around town boasting that he'll take any case-too bad for nepotism because maybe I'd still have my driving priveleges. And then there's cousin Madison, sitting in the loneliest corner of this otherwise jovial summertime function and rightfully so: Certified Ball Buster. Don't get me wrong, she's ambitious, cultured, has degrees out the wazoo, BUT, she's also the owner of worst attitude this side of Texas: rumor has it that she garnered the attention of a promising rookie shooting guard back in the early 90's but dumped him when she found out he went in the second round of the NBA draft and that his "money wasn't guaranteed". That story gets even more tragic, but enough about them.

I could go on and on, Youngblood, about people and their shortcomings. But allow me to introduce myself first: I am your Drunk Uncle Cutty: Certified Shit Talker. My tumble from grace has left some in cocaine induced states of toxic euphoria, other's as speedbumps for trains, but I'm something like a roach; a survivor of my own nuclear holocaust. I am "Unc" on the corner that reminds you of how lucky you were to not be born before the 80's. I am that uncle whose impeccable sense of balance prevents me from tipping over while my drunken stupor b!tchslaps the laws of gravity...and also leads me to believe I'm still the baddest dancer since the Godfather himself (Michael WHO??!!!). I used to have trouble distinguishing the hamper from the toilet on any given night, but now I realize that a toilet is where much of today's music belongs.

Bottom Line, nephew, I have stories for days. I know how the wrongs of the world should be righted. I could've been president honestly, but people like me just don't get to be politicians....I know you are thinking "...but what about George Bush?..." and to that I say "run down the street and get Ol' Cutdog a pint o' Thunderbird and I'll tell you all about it....."

I am your Drunk Uncle Cutty and when I talk you better listen up youngin'....and no you can't keep the change!