Enlish

Showing posts with label THE PIRANHA TANK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label THE PIRANHA TANK. Show all posts

Thursday, 13 March 2014

Random White Basketball Players Vol. 4


BOOM!!!! Back up in this bitch. Seeing as the last time I hit you with a Random White Basketball player was 27/10/2011 I thought it only right that I resurrect this excellent segment with some style and flair. Ladies and germs, I proudly present to you -

RANDY BREUER!!!!!!!!




Not only does this guy have the best name ever he is also clearly rating a 9.5 on the sexy scale (pause). Lets take a look at his career statistics - 

No. 45
Center
Personal information
BornOctober 11, 1960 (age 53)
Lake City, Minnesota
NationalityAmerican
Listed height7 ft 3 in (221 cm)
Listed weight230 lb (104 kg)
Career information
High schoolLincoln (Lake City, Minnesota)
CollegeMinnesota (1979–1983)
NBA draft1983 / Round: 1 / Pick: 18th overall
Selected by the Milwaukee Bucks
Pro playing career1983–1994
Career history
19831990Milwaukee Bucks
1990–1992Minnesota Timberwolves
1992–1993Atlanta Hawks
1993–1994Sacramento Kings
Career highlights and awards
Career statistics
Points4,599 (6.8 ppg)
Rebounds2,986 (4.4 rpg)
Blocks750 (1.1 bpg)
Stats at Basketball-Reference.com

Pretty FUCKING impressive, I'm sure you'll agree. And just look at those completely muscle-less arms, the partial hair covering the muscle-less arms and stupid fucking look on his face! Lets hear it for RANDY BREUER guys!





Thursday, 27 October 2011

Random White Basketball Plavers Vol. 3

JOE WOLF




On the front, Joe Wolf has the looks and the name of an All American hero destined for great things. The back of the card tells a different story however. First of all, look at this motherfucker's mullet. You might have got away with this in the 1980's but even in the early 90's this must have been somewhat of a faux pas. Fair enough the NBA wasn't necessarily as 'cool' as it is now with regards to players rocking outrageous tattoos and colour coordinated accessories, but god damn it, if MJ couldn't wear his black and red Jordan ones in the league surely Joey here should have had some sort of restrictions placed on his hairstyle. Lets look at the stats.

From 4 NBA season totals -

GP = 259
FG% = .422
FT% = .783
REB= 1090
AST = 380
STL = 160
BLK = 87
PTS = 1615 / AVG = 6.2 PPG

So, a pretty lackluster career in all. Add to this the criminal length of his shorts (you ain't John Stockton, buddy) and those Converse that he's rocking and the only notable thing about Joes career is his throwback, which of course wasn't a throwback then, it was just a jersey. Also, to add insult to injury I don't suppose he actually owned it, just borrowed it to underperform in.

Winston Wolf he was not.

Wednesday, 31 August 2011

That's What Eye See #19/The Vintage Vaults - Jabba The Hut With A Dutch Master

Pretty much does what it says on the tin. Salacious Crumb in the back with the rolling papers.





Thursday, 18 August 2011

Not Doing School Work & Drawing Wu Tang Symbols Instead



Now, before I started writing and rapping, before I started DJing, shit before I even lost my virginity one thing was made completely and utterly clear to me. By any means necessary I had to be able to freehand a Wu Tang symbol that was as close to perfect as was possible. This particular endeavour began in 1993 at the age of 11 and continued on until around age 19, so in essence what I'm saying is that I spent the best part of my time in full time education dedicated to drawing hundreds and hundreds of W symbols instead of actually paying attention in class. They say you should live life without regret; then again, hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Anyway, on one of my recent architectural digs in THE PIRANHA TANK I came across an old 6th form college diary from when I was 17, complete with a Thirstin Howl 'Polorican' sticker on the front and containing far more crude Wu Tang symbols and absolutely AWFUL rhymes (in my best attempt at 'grafitti handwriting') than references to or evidence of actual college work. I'm not saying I was a bad student, I was actually pretty good, but it was somewhat of a blast from the past to see exactly how obsessive I had become during that 6 year period. Unfortunately it seems that my ability to draw Wu Tang symbols and my ability to write lyrics were pretty much on par with each other in 1999. Thankfully my abilities in both fields have improved since then (I hope).

I don't really know what the point of this is, but I scanned a single page from this diary, and here it is, complete with one 'lyric' on the page (you will see what I mean about the handwriting). There was a whole 8 or 12 bars underneath but upon reading I deemed them to be so incredibly embarrassing that I decided to omit them from the picture for my own protection. The one that is there is more than enough.



"Hoes shout cause I grow sprouts - that's disgusting." Genius stuff. It actually shows I had a basic grasp of multi syllabics, but funnily enough that one line never found its way into a verse entire. There's stacks more of these in The Tank, literally stacks and stacks, which I will aim to rifle through next time I'm headed back to the motherland.

And in case you were wondering, the years of dedication and study paid off. I can now draw a virtually perfect Wu symbol without any visual aids (pause) or tracing paper. Like they say, no regrets. No regrets Dave, no regrets.



*Edit* - Google chucked this up, one that Method Man drew himself. Im officially better haha

Thursday, 4 August 2011

Random White Basketball Players Vol. 2

BRAD DAVIS




Look at this goofy motherfucker. Can someone say "the hills have eyes"? Check out that horribly inbred face and hick mullet. Something really not kosher about that. Also, his birthday is 1955 and his first NBA season is 1985. WTF? Who lets a guy looking like this into the league at age 30? He looks like he should be wearing overalls and fixing brakes somewhere in the deep south. Lets have a look at the stats.

85/86 - 9.3 ppg
86/87 - 7.0 ppg
87/88 - 7.2 ppg
88/89 - 6.4 ppg
89/90 - 6.4 ppg
90/91 - 5.4 ppg

So, apart from a MASSIVE surge in productivity by 0.2 ppg between '87 and '88, Brad's career was on a steady decline as soon as he started playing.

He must have got home after every game, saw Craig Ehlo and Mark Price on the TV and started crying his eyes out. How shit.

Previously : Random White Basketball Players Vol. 1

Friday, 22 July 2011

The Karate Kid Chronicles Vol. 2



John Kreese. Everybody hated this dude, without exception. When I was a kid I thought he was the embodiment of pure evil, not only because he encouraged the Cobra Kai students to be absolute pricks at any and every given opportunity, but because as a very young man he scared the shit out of me. As Mr Miyagi said himself - "No such thing as bad student, only bad teacher. Teacher say, student do." Sounds like my first driving instructor, although that’s a different story entirely. I still hate both of them, but probably Kreese just a little bit more.



Anyway, from day dot it became plainly obvious to me that there was nothing worse in this world than a bad Karate teacher. Luckily, my Karate teacher was not an inherently evil, psychologically imbalanced sociopath, so I was safe , but it is a shame to say that not all of us were so fortunate. An unjust, hilarious shame.



Take my boy Birdseye for example. He recently got married and this particular story formed part of my best man's speech at the wedding reception. At the tender age of 14 he began his Karate schooling under the watchful eye of one 'Sensei' Richard Millen at the Millen Kai Dojo, spurred on by a fascination with 'the way of the open hand' and, as is usually the case, the urge to become a super badass chop socky dude, contrary to all of the rules and policies involved in taking Karate seriously. However, after a period of two years intensive study, it must have been quite obvious that Birdseye was more than dedicated to the art, attending the dojo 3 or 4 times a week and sometimes more in an effort to become an unstoppable killing machine/master of mind, body and spirit.



Having amassed a number of impressive accolades over the years, including both regional and national Karate championship competition wins to help solidify his position and standing as a black belt master of the art, it is somewhat bizarre that some of Sensei Millen's dubious teaching techniques did not warrant a number of raised eyebrows from both the students and, in many cases, the parents of the students who attended the dojo on a weekly basis.



One of these methods, as I have been told, involved Sensei Millen picking a student at random who was subsequently blindfolded and then made to stand in the centre of a ring of other students. Once in place, the circle of students were then instructed to attack the blindfolded student at random and without warning, with Sifu instructing the blindfoldee to use their natural instinct and chi energy to deflect the attacks without using their sight. Imagine Luke in Star Wars Episode IV trying to deflect the laser blasts from the remote droid on the Millennium Falcon with the blast shield on his helmet down, then multiply the remote droid by 7 or 8 and you begin to get the picture. You then multiply this technique by X amount of days, adding in any other amount of bizarre 'training techniques' and then spread the entire experience over 2 years. Sounds pretty fucking bizarre, doesn't it?



Fast forward to age 16 and in a conscientious effort to ace his GCSE's, young padawan Birdseye decides to take a break from his gruelling schedule at the dojo to focus on his studies. Then, fast forward again another 2 months or so to imagine a young, fresh-out-of-exams Birdseye rocking up to the dojo to continue his studies and emphatically "finish what he started." THEN, imagine his surprise when he finds the dojo to have been shut down. Permanently.

Funnily enough, it would later transpire that 'Sensei' Richard Millen had not, in fact, achieved any of the accolades that he had boasted of, not only including his competition wins but more critically his grading of black belt and therefore his legal and moral position to in fact teach Karate at all. Basically, Millen knew about as much about Karate as your grandmother (assuming your grandmother is not a master of Karate, of course) and had fabricated his entire back story to make money through the exploitation of unassuming and eager students. I mean, defending yourself, blindfolded, in a ring of random attackers? Maybe a lifelong Shaolin monk could do that, but even then maybe not. I'd like to know what the fuck was going through his mind and if, at any point, he felt any remorse or guilt for what he was doing.



Despite the fact that Birdseye was able laugh this whole situation off, others were not so lucky, having studied under Millen for many years before being led to believe that they really were black belts. I can't imagine how absolutely soul-crushingly devastating that realisation must have been. Needless to say, Sensei Millen was very quickly tried and subsequently convicted of committing fraud on a major (yet very unusual scale) and was consequently sent to jail, never to be heard of again. It was then his turn to experience the words 'attack' and 'ring' on a daily basis, although in a far more intrusive way.

So, its back to the wisdom of Mr Miyagi. "No such thing as bad student, only bad teacher." At least Kreese actually knew Karate.

Saturday, 16 July 2011

The Vintage Vaults - Nike Hoop Heroes

Does anyone remember this line of clothing? I remember copping these when I was about 12 or 13 on a trip to Malta with the fam. The hat is classic 90's, i.e. a sickly combination of organic and pastel colours that make you want to hurl, but seeing as Scottie Pippen and Charles Barkley were two of my favourite players alongside MJ I appreciated that they were given the same amount of shine on this clothing line. This holiday and the subsequent purchases came shortly after Scottie Pippen took the MVP award at the 1994 All Star game, a game I remember very well for 2 reasons - Shaq was completely locked out of the game, scoring fuck all points and Scottie wore the all red Nike Air Flights that he wasn't allowed to rock during the regular season (much like MJ's black and red ones).



The reason I remember this so well is that during this trip to Malta I actually saw the red kicks in a shop and begged my old dear to buy them for me, which she of course refused, and with good reason. However, with me chipping in whatever money I had a compromise was reached, which saw me not only copping the hat but a matching T shirt to go with it. Due to my hoarding tendencies and the ever abundant space of THE PIRANHA TANK, these items still exist to this day. Cheers Dad.






However, despite the dopeness/grotesque nature of the hat, it really is the T shirt that takes the biscuit. The artwork is by a geezer called Mark Ryden... Ive googled him but no dice. The thing that bugs me more than A) The fact this t shirt is faded to fuck and no longer fits me B) Ive obviously used it as some sort of cleaning rag (hence the black marks) and C) B, is that I can't for the life of me remember OR find any evidence to suggest that similar illustrated garms were manufactured to depict Pippen, Barkley and Hardaway in similar situations. I would literally cut off your right arm for a set of all 4 in good condition. Observe -






See what I mean on the fade? It's fucking heart breaking. Still, when I was 12 years old, I wasnt thinking about the future, plus I could only rock this joint if I had one of those faggoty skinny skater boy physiques, and I don't. Still, I'm well within my rights to be cheesed off. If ANYONE OUT THERE READING THIS can at the very least point me towards any existing illustrtions like this one I would be most appreciative.

As an aside but essentially the whole reason I wrote this post, I Googled 'Nike Hoop Heroes' and this is one of the results that came up. Anyone want to buy a hat? Holla at me.

Taken from http://brianprocell.bigcartel.com/product/nike-hoop-heroes



You kids and your 'snap backs'. In my day we called them hats. Ive still got a bunch of original starter joints and some fake joints that i got whilst on various holidays. Are they really worth $200 a pop?

HOLLA

***EDIT***

Found a website for Mark Ryden. No mention of the Hoop Heroes work but im going to holla at him and see if i get a response. http://www.markryden.com/

Random photo from the Hoop Heroes tour, mid 90's I assume, I can see Pip and Charles Barkley in there at least. HERE

Also -

Friday, 1 July 2011

Random White Basketball Players Vol. 1

Time for another new segment, once again with thanks to Eddy Piranha who had these hidden away in a dark corner of the attic. I used to be a massive basketball fan, both playing and following the NBA. Unfortunately, many teenage summers spent pounding up and down the concrete have left my knees and ankles completely and utterly fucked, so I'm only really good for a game of H.O.R.S.E. these days. Also, as soon as the 96' Bulls team split up, I pretty much stopped following the NBA. I don't even know who took the title this year.

Anyway, I found a stash of upper deck trading cards from the 91/92 season in The Piranha Tank. I vaguely remember picking up hundreds of these for an incredibly cheap price, mainly due to the fact that they were all complete nobodies and therefore none of the cards were collectors items. The best thing bout this pointless stash, however, is the amount of completely random, ugly, bizarrely named and, according to their stats, shit basketball players. The fact that they're white is not a race issues, but with the exception of a select few we all know that white dudes have never been part of the NBA elite, plus the haircuts, retro uniforms and goofy ass kicks are a touch. So, without further ado, i present to you -

1. TODD LICHTI




In all honesty, Todd wasn't doing too badly at this point in his career, or so it would seem. Jumping from an 8 point to a 14 point average in a year is quite impressive, but a closer look reveals that in the 89/90 season he played 79 games (out of 82 regular season match ups), whereas in 90/91 he only played 29 games. Still, at the time he was ranked second on his conference's all time scoring list. I don't really understand how that is possible in the slightest from looking at his stats, but it says it on the card, so fuck knows.

Anyway, thats not the point. Check the goofy motherfucker out. Its fair to say that somebody likes short shorts. His kicks are nice though. At least he's not rocking Pony.

Wednesday, 29 June 2011

The Vintage Vaults - Helly Hansen

We coming back.

Ever since I got hooked on Hip Hop through Wu Tang at age 11, I also became, as many teens/preteens did (they don't anymore, spoilt little fucks) aware of how I looked with regards to clothing and, more importantly, how I wanted to look. For many years I begged my old dear for a Tommy Hilfiger sailing jacket and Air Jordans, and was denied every time. Looking back it was a good thing; if I ever have kids and they start demanding £300 jackets and £100 kicks i'll just put them up for adoption. However, a compromise was made, and my needs were met to a certain extent.



Somewhere back in The Piranha Tank I have a stack of old Source magazines from the mid nineties, most of which I mainly kept for the hilarious No Limit adverts and associated junk. However, when Sadat X dropped 'Wild Cowboys' in '96 he was also involved in a Helly Hansen marketing campaign; they obviously saw what was happening with Hilfiger, Timberland and them and wanted to get involved. If i'm not mistaken, Xzibit is also rocking a Helly in the 'Paparazzi' video too.

Anyway, walking through Falmouth one day, I spied a sailing shop that sold Helly's and found them to be a pretty reasonable price, around 60 quid if i remember correctly. I needed a new jacket so I scraped up whatever P i had and ma dukes covered the rest. Of course I still have it, along with many other items from a bygone age, but you'll have to wait for the rest. I still don't know to this day why I chose yellow, though; not exactly a subtle colour, but handy if i ever got thrown overboard on a crab fishing expedition (I didn't).

Peep -






Monday, 18 April 2011

HONOUR AMONGST THIEVES (TDK Chronicles)

'Home Dubbing.... The Death Of The Music Industry"

A small sample from the Pirahna Tank™



Back in the day, when I first really got into Hip Hop in around '93, there were sooooooo many good albums coming out. So many, in fact, that not one person could possibly afford to buy them all. Luckily, I had 3 or 4 like minded friends, and so we shared the burden of paying £14.99 per album between us, unless something was particularly necessary (i.e. all of the Wu Tang LPs in my case). Once one of us had purchased a particular CD, we would either take a bag full of TDKs home with us or lend out the CD to each person at a time so everyone could get a dub.

In my case, however, a dubbed tape was never going to be as good as the full package with all of the artwork, so I always endeavoured to make the most of my dubbed TDK, usually involving a pencil, some tracing paper and a red ink pen. Observe; I really was/am this geeky with my Hip Hop.



Plenty more where that came from and all.

Friday, 8 April 2011

Vintage Vaults Throwback : Hip Hop Connection Magazine Circa '95(?)



An incredibly influential publication in its time, I purchased and read it cover to cover from 1993 until the time it unfortunately stopped being published when the 'credit crunch' kicked in and fucked everything up. However, as is the case with these things, I found a massive stack of the fuckers tucked away in The Piranha tank (shout out Eddy P) but, not having much time to play with, only had the chance to scan these 4 pages. But what a group of pages they are.

The Wu Tang spread. Look closely and you'll see A) They've put a picture of Inspectah Deck in there saying he's the RZA (WHAAAAAAAA!?!?!?!?!?) B) Raekwon is wearing a vintage Polo Snow Beach Pullover and C) you can see the tears and bits of blue tack from where I assumedly stuck this up on my bedroom wall. I think it's from 1994/95 but can't be sure, the rest of the magazine was MIA but I'm glad I kept hold of this beauty. Plenty more where this came from though.

Incidentally, I got letter of the month twice in HHC and had a total of 5 or 6 letters printed. I very much doubt I have the balls to put those up (if I can find them) but you never know. They still owe me a bottle of champagne, come to think of it.

Obviously you can see fuck all on the jpegs, so I've upped a download link for the PDFs at the bottom, should you feel the need to look at them properly (you should).

Download the PDFs and view the magnificence HERE

http://www.zshare.net/download/88755357ddf9bdf7/




And, as an added bonus, I scanned the other side of the spread. Lucky you. However, I would like you to pay special attention to the now legendary 'Connections' page, with one specific entry being quite poignant given recent happenings in UK Hip Hop.

"YNR Productions are a Yorkshire-based collective of hip-hop acts. They are in need of local deejays available for studio work and shows. Also need contacts, and any true b-boys/girls (especially locally), whether rhymers, deejays, writers or breakers, should get in touch."

I wonder if its too late to apply, haha. Download link below.

Download the PDFs and view the magnificence HERE

http://www.zshare.net/download/88755357ddf9bdf7/




Download the PDFs and view the magnificence HERE

http://www.zshare.net/download/88755357ddf9bdf7/

HHC does live on in digital format of course, and you can D/L every one so far from http://www.hhcdigital.net/ which is one again advised. Not a patch on the old hard print, but what you gonna do?

Monday, 4 April 2011

The Karate Kid Chronicles Vol.1.1 - Cornish Cobra Kai - *WITH NEW EPILOGUE!!*



When the original (and therefore the best - I'll give you my opinions on the remake at a later date) Karate Kid dropped in 1984 I, like millions of other children and teenagers around the world literally lost my shit (although, obviously, I saw the film in around '86 or so when I was just about old enough to vaguely understand life, in the most simplistic way, of course). At the time it was the single greatest movie I had ever seen and it led me, undoubtedly like millions of other children and teenagers around the world, to demand my mother send me to karate lessons lest I start crane kicking the shit out of every single person and easily breakable object in my proximity. Luckily for me, there was a weekly class held just down the road from my gaff that my friend had already previously joined a week or so earlier, having smashed his parents with an identical form of nagging/complaining/whining.



Unfortunately (as it later transpired), I took to the classes like a duck to water and quickly advanced to a yellow
belt, proving myself as superior to every other kid in my age and belt bracket. 'Why is that so unfortunate, Dave?' I hear u say. Well, due to my accelerated proficiency at the practice of the way of the open hand I was deemed as being skilful enough to start sparring with dudes a couple years older and a couple of grades more qualified than I. This promotion not only included being dropped in way over my childish Daniel-San-esque expectations of car waxing and yard work but also led to a switch up from light to full (& heavy) body contact sparring, the only saving grace being that my pretty face was out of bounds to any enquiring fists and feet.



The problem was that the rest of my body was fair game. After 4 or 5 weeks of getting my ass whipped up and down the karate club combined with the initial euphoria that the film had introduced to my then fresh and pre-pessimistic mind becoming a distant memory (VHS rentals were not a daily occurrence), I went home with my proverbial dick in my hand and a hi tek halfway up my ass and kindly requested that I not have to go back again. Ever. My mother obliged, begrudgingly.

BASTARDS


In all honesty though, Jonny Lawrence and the rest of the Cobra Kai dudes scared the shit out of me when I was a kid. If you remember correctly, they didn't just bully Daniel Larusso, there are two specific points in the film where they essentially attempt to murder him (chucking him off the bike, beating the living shit out of him on Halloween before Miyagi comes to the rescue). Without sounding melodramatic, I kind of related to the character of Larusso, me being an obvious ethnic addition to an otherwise white-and-blonde landscape of spoilt, rich bullies (some, not all, obviously).




Of course, without delving too deeply into the whys and wherefores of my childhood, the bullying I dealt with occurred throughout my teens, but having not retained any of my Karate training it was mainly ended either by my mates (of which Daniel San had none) or by my own erratic haymakers and dump tackles. As I grew older, they became drunken haymakers and rugby tackles, which seem to be all the more effective. Basically, if you're going to get bullied, make sure that you and your assailant are both shit faced drunk and everything hurts a little less for both parties. Its lucky Miyagi didn't follow my advice, otherwise Daniel San would have ended up with a mean sake addiction. Just saying.

Badge and John Lawrence action figure courtesy of THE PIRANHA TANK™ (Cheers Dad)






VOLUME 2 OF THE KARATE KID CHRONICLES COMING SOON

VERSION 1.1 - BUCKY'S EPILOGUE



A good friend of mine, from Cornwall, had this to say on the matter -

"I remember trying out the Krane kick on a kid called Kevin Williams when I lived in Gibraltar, I didn’t like him, and I did it without warning. The poor guy had an asthma attack and his mum banned our family from the local grocery store. My p’s never let me go to any type of martial art class after that incident. Incidentally, Kevin was sent to the Gibraltar Karate club by his Mum, and after three years of Miyagi-style training, he managed to obtain a black belt and then he used his skills to punch my tooth through my lip in a playground incident. Fair play to him really."

Aaaaaahahahaha. It's the chronicles, baby.