From the Gay Pride Parade NYC 2016
Go full screen. Theres a lot to see.
Influential. Their rhythms are so natural and precisely delivered. Finessed. That’s what I’d call it.
The results are so CLYASSY.
WANTED – Bytches With Problems
1991 – Bytches With Problems – B.W.P., Ho. – Heavy rotation at the drag dorm on Ave B. summer of ’91 – 2 copies, bitch…the first one wore out – shiiiiit.
This is still one of the filthiest and most daring albums that I am happy to own. The notes inside are something I always remember wondering about – Tanisha Michelle gives special thanks to God, her brothers and sisters and most of all thanks to her mother. Huh? Now, if my mother ever heard even ten seconds of this sinful recording I think it could really do some deep and irreversible psychological damage. “There are just so many different types of families in New York,” I used to think to my white-ass self. T.M. also thanks “some” of her high school teachers but goes on to wish a “fuck you” to most of her neighbors and also adds a special “fuck you,” to her father. I love that. Nobody ever did that- reading fools right on your inner sleeve? Lyndah and Tanisha Michelle did. Shiiit. And why not? It’s their fucking album RITE? Fuck dat shit. I’d still love to meet them. I believe I will one day. I wonder what they are up to?…like tonight? Probably bitchin about passwords, Netflix accounts and Time Warner Cable (or what ever the fuck they have over there in New Jersey) – right?
Imagine a re-union project about menopause? The time is right, bytches. Damnnnnn. Im’a start wrightin’ that one right now. “Hot Flash” is the obvious first single – and I think something like “Half-Dead, Dried and Dusty” could be an answer track to, ‘Is The Pussy Still Good?” Calling The Bytches! – Where you at ho’s? – call me. I got some loops and a laptop. Everybody just makes their albums on their fuckin laptops these mother fuckin’ days anyway. Shiiiit. You know that’s right.
You need to click this:
They don’t even say that anymore….maybe once in a while I hear it…
¡No se apoye contra la puerta!