"Diamonds & Wood" is an ongoing series in which music critic Shea Serrano breaks down the 5 hip-hop tracks you need to hear this week.
Sunday, a bony little girl that lives a couple of houses down came over and started playing with the boys. Initially, they were wary of her presence. She came up and introduced herself and they said fuck off* and then walked away. But after six or so minutes of her following them around, they caved. They started chatting her up (mostly about lizards, but also about farts), then, after she showed continued interest, took out just about every toy they had in the garage and tried to get her to watch them play with each one, which, I guess, means they had both had fallen in love with her.
*Basically.
Boy B attempted to win her affection the most aggressively. Things appeared to be going well (he showed her several of his finest karate moves), but then she accidentally knocked over his scooter and FUCK THAT. He stood straight up, looked her in square in her eyeballs, and responded with, "You kicked my scooter, therefore I have to kick you." (Like, he literally said “therefore”.) The transitive logic seemed sound, but she didn't agree with the idea. She walked over towards Boy A.
Boy A, sensing the disconnect, went with his best girl-impressing move (acting like a robot first, then transitioning into a dinosaur impression, then to a weird Dino-bot amalgam—"I...am... Euo...pla...cephalous, bleep boop bleep"). She was unimpressed. Then he tried to ram into her with his Big Wheel*. She swooned. Boy B’s face glowed with jealousy. He immediately adopted the same tactic.
*Just to be clear, “Big Wheel” is not a euphemism for “penis,” though if I were to assign a child’s play bike to penis-metaphor-status, I’d almost certainly pick “Big Wheel.” What I definitely wouldn’t choose: Little Tike.
Eventually, the three all started chasing each other. Boy A, a remarkable athlete already, was uncatchable. She might as well have been chasing a fucking cheetah. She’d get close, he’d sprint away, then, after he’d secured himself proper bragging distance, would turn around and shout, “Hey! Why can’t you catch me? I’m too fast!” She focused her energies on Boy B, who ran, but only just fast enough so that she could catch him. (His girl game is undeniable. I fully expect him to be a father by the time he’s in the 9th grade.)
At one point during the chase, B stopped running altogether. He thought he’d seen Winston, the hell hound that lives with a big black guy on our block that might sell white women for a living*. When she ran into him, he toppled over (she’s a good five inches taller and ten pounds heavier, I’d guess). He got up, looked at her, then punched her in the chest. She hit him back before he realized what was happening.
*This is a whole separate story.
They tussled for, like, two seconds before A noticed. He looked over, saw his brother getting worked over by the bigger, stronger, more coordinated girl, then turned on the big engines. He SPRINTED over to them. He might’ve been crying before he even got there, I don’t know. I just know that when he got there, he detonated. He let out a mammoth, “AAHHHHHHHHHHRRRHHHHH!” and began tossing his tiny fists around at light speed. The twosome were too much for her. I bounced over and pulled them all apart. They were all wet-eyed, but nobody took any shots to the face, so everybody was fine.
I said, “Boys, apologize,” to which they snorted derision and then complied. She accepted and they shook hands.
I probably should’ve nixed the whole thing sooner. I probably should’ve said something to them about fighting girls, or just fighting in general. I don’t know. It didn’t seem like it mattered. I wish this was some story that had an alternate meaning, an importance beyond itself. But it doesn’t.
It only serves one purpose: To let all of you whore seven-year-old girls out there know that if you pickle one Serrano boy, you can fully expect the other to come for your throat.
1-5. Scarface on The Combat Jack Show
Okay, for real dudebros, I certainly understand the inherent ugliness of corporate synergy, but truth is truth. The Combat Jack Show, which recently has transitioned over to an online TV show version of itself thanks to Complex TV, has just been fantastically entertaining these last handful of weeks. To wit, the videos linked below, which are from the show’s recent 3 part interview with rap’s loveable curmudgeon Scarface.
Additionally, I might recommend perusing their SoundCloud page, which hosts the podcasts they’ve recorded. Start with the Dame Dash interview (his bluster sounds especially preposterous given the recent news clips about him being broke) and the sit down with Toure’, one of the media’s most polarizing, engaging characters.
Shea Serrano is a writer living in Houston, TX. His work has appeared in the Houston Press, LA Weekly, Village Voice, XXL, The Source, Grantland and more. You can follow him on Twitter here.
