What's in a name? A lot can be conveyed through the title of a fellow who you've decided to size up. Frank? He's straightforward, a reasonably dude, won't take bull shit from any person, friend or foe. Bob? Adrift - sorta lost in the sea, but always afloat and makin' the best of his situation. Noah? Grasp his every word if you want a shot for a spot on that ark...unless you're Bob, who's probably got a contingency plan in the works already!
Who is this punk, you might ask? This Stupendous Menace? Well, that's a little bit redundant to ask; his name says it all!
Crazy, without a doubt; who can be ph-ph-phAN-tastic by stickin' to normal ways of thinking? Aplomb, sums it up alright - molding any conundrum with deft hands, flowing through the motions, ruggedly massaging at the difficult dilemma until it's just the right shape, the right size, the right consistency to pass as a flawless success! Three times repeated, too, which ain't nothin' to sneeze at! But, although perfectly acceptable and completely correct to mention in discussion about the legend's demeanor, what REALLY makes this man astonishing? What aspect causes Carlos Slim to ask him for a personal high-top trim for nearly half of his fortune, and some hoes on the side? How godly must he be to go ghost-ridin' with Cthulhu, literally, across half the Pacific Ocean?
It's dexterity. The gift granted graciously to the MC, they call it gab; it flows from the tongue in abundance, seeping into the saliva, grafting on the gums, blasting back cavities bringing only lockjaw as gifts. They're really assholish guests, and not a single one is welcome in the home of the lyrically inclined. That's what defines him. And he, the Snore de Bliss, defines me, in all aspects. Lose the gab, lose the light, lose the life inspiring the might. Might as well be snatching my soul from my body, makin' me a slender, vacant shell of who I once was.
Looks like we're on and rollin' - expect a review later in the week.