Throwing red paint on people that wear fur coats and writing raps in my boxers. Anything artistic (writing, drawing, painting, photography, animation, production, singing, rhyming, dancing). And...no joke...I will ball you into a dark corner of the universe that you don't want to visit. My crossover made EPMD write a rap song about it.
you. how coincidental.
Anything hype. Anything beautiful. Anything depressing. James Brown, Beruit, Otis Redding, Bjork, Jimi Hendrix, Chico Cesar, Air, early Misfits, N.W.A... HipHop/Drum and Bass are a strong part of me. Hip Hop is my fucking lifeline. I love little pieces of everything. Music is what helps me wake up every morning and feed my cats and dogs. Hope Sandoval is what I get high and write lyrics to. MOP is what I get drunk and smash shit to.
Anything with Gary Oldman, Christopher Walken, and John Malkovich. Add some Tim Burton and David Lynch and sprinkle a little bit Pan's Labyrinth/Life Is Beautiful/ The Goonies and your swimwear is completely in there. Laughing/Thinking is important. Let's shoot the shit about scripts and cinematography.
Keep it funny or teach me about history,crime scenes, the universe, and fuzzy animals. I like watching people crash and fall off buildings and all that hood shit, too. Weird facts and freak shit is lovely as well. Like whoa.
Plath, Burroughs, e.e. cummings, Sandra Cisneros,Saul Williams, Pablo Neruda, Chuck Palahniuk, Salinger, Vonnegut... Anything that makes me get that feeling that nothing else in the world matters except what is on the pages in front of my eyes. That is an amazing feeling that is hard for me to get now adays...Also I'll take a side order of kids books and C.S. Lewis/Chris Van Allsburgh type stuff for nostalgic value. I love writing as well. Share poems or raps with me and we'll form like voltron. Roll Ooooout.
If you could blend Jim Morrison with Jimi Hendrix,James Brown, Salvador Dali, Muhammad Ali and Carravaggio and have them make sweet, passionate whoopee to a ghetto trick that was a blend of Cleopatra, Sylvia Plath, Audrey Hepburn, Lee Miller and Joan of Arc until a little seed popped out...and have that seed raised from birth by a voracious pack of wolves, but wind up being found at the age of 10 under a ancient temple's front pillars and taught martial arts by shao lin monks, that...and only that...FUCKING GOLDEN CHILD would be my ultimate hero. I would sweat that muhfucka. On some "poster on my wall with a candle lit under it" shit. Like some Long Island bitch in the eighties with the New Kids .