Ok, sorry this page is empty right now. Starting this weekend, ginandtacos.com will see a movie (or re-watch an old favorite) and post a review Monday night/tuesday morning. This way you'll have an excuse to stop by and see if anything else is new.
First up, Erik on "Timeline", maybe something else. See you then.
Side note: This is the only time that we will be linking to the sad, sorry webpage for the magazine Vice. It's an ugly magazine that we'd prefer not to be formally associated with – but they did interview the Ol' Dirty. See how much weight the poor man has put on since jail, and get ready to buy his new clothing line (?).
If Sir Robert Burnett is ginandtacos.com's Jesus, then Ol' Dirty Bastard is our John the Baptist. Or are we John the Baptist? I'd like to think we are preaching his word – wait, I'm not sure. Anyway, ginandtacos.com has always felt a very special connection with the gifted and troubled rapper from the Wu-Tang Clan. Ol' Dirty is a walking testament to the promise of the fractured, absurd, wonderful life one can lead in America.
Don't believe me? Why don't we walk through a year in the life of Ol' Dirty Bastard. Let's take 1998, an eventful year for the Dirt Dog. If this isn't chaotic enough for you, I have no idea who you are.
1998 – The Year for Ol' Dirty Bastard
2-24 Ol' Dirty saves the life of a 4-year old child.
He ran outside of a studio he was recording in to help a girl who had just been hit by a driver. She was underneath the car and wsa being burned by
the engine. Ol' Dirty and several other rappers lifted the car off of her; Ol' Dirty visited her anonymously her in the hospital to make sure she was ok.
2-25 Ol' Dirty rushes Shawn Colvin's acceptance speech at the Grammy Award.
"Please calm down. I went and bought me an outfit today that cost me a lot of money, because I figured that Wu-Tang was gonna win," O.D.B. said, referring to the Best Rap Album that Wu-Tang was nominated for, but did not win earlier in the evening as the honor went to Puff Daddy. "I don't know how you all see it, but when it comes to the children, Wu-Tang is for the children. We teach the children. Puffy is good, but Wu-Tang is the best. I want you all to know that this is ODB, and I love you all, peace." "OK," Dirty announced from the stage. "I apologize my darling," he said to Colvin, who stood nearby, dumbfounded. "You're very beautiful and your speech was also very beautiful," he continued, referencing a speech she hadn't even made. "As a matter of fact, when me and you, with your speech, I think it was your speech that really attracted me up to the stage at that point of time to do that. So it's no disrespect at all. Thank you."
4-6 Ol' Dirty pleads guilty to charges of attempted assult.
The woman, Icelene Jones, is the mother of three of Ol' Dirty's children; he'll be back and forth to court in 1998 haggling out child support payments. ODB was granted a conditional release, while Jones was also granted a full order of protection as part of that ruling.
4-28 Ol' Dirty Changes his name to Big Baby Jesus.
"There's no more ODB no more. No, there's no more Osiris, that's all lies. From now on, my name is Big Baby Jesus" he announced to Vibe magazine. Later he told MTV News "I always been Jesus, I don't know what the big secret's been all these years. Hanging pictures up on the wall and crosses and things of that nature, I mean, it's all good, but the truth's gonna be revealed one day, and one day the truth's been revealed."
6-30 Ol' Dirty Bastard is shot twice during a robbery at his cousin's house.
Ol' Dirty was staying at his cousin's house in Brooklyn, New York, when two black men knocked on the door. After Ol' Dirty answered it, the two men forced themselves inside, stole money and personal jewerly and then shot Ol' Dirty once in the arm, and once in the back. He was taken to Interfaith Medical Center, St. John's Division where he was treated and declared to be in stable condition.
8-13 Ol' Dirty Bastard misses a third shoplifting court date.
Judge Robert L. Simpson, Jr. issued an order for his arrest without bond, much like a bench warrant with no chance of bailing out. If caught by the police, Dirty will be held in custody until his next scheduled court appearance in order to ensure his attendance, according to a spokesperson for the General District Court.
9-17 Ol' Dirty under arrest after making threats at a club.
According to the police, the rapper, whose real name is Russell Jones, was inside the venue while R&B singer Des'ree was performing, acting drunk and disorderly. The venue's security asked him to come outside to talk, at which point he refused and was ejected from the club. Upon his return, Dirty allegedly threatened to shoot members of the security staff, which is a felony offense. He is also being held for an unrelated traffic warrant. If convicted, the rapper could face one to three years in prison A spokesperson for the House of Blues says that the incident involving Dirty was minor.
The Virginia Beach, Virginia shoplifting case involving a $50 pair of Nike sneakers is ongoing as well.
11-6 Ol' Dirty arrested for threatening to kill ex-girlfriend, breaking into her work.
Ol' Dirty was arrested and booked on Thursday at 1 p.m. in Carson, California. Sheriff's deputies apprehended Dirty after his 27-year-old ex-girlfriend and mother of his one-year old child reported on Monday that he had allegedly threatened to kill her. On Thursday afternoon, she called police once again to tell them that he was en route to her job location. According to police reports, Dirty was apprehended while attempting to climb over the security gate to enter her job site. Dirty has another on-going case involving a previous terrorist threat charge. He is expected to appear in Beverly Hills Municipal Court on November 17 for allegedly threatening to shoot the West Hollywood House of Blues security staff.
He also faces shoplifting charges in Virginia Beach, Virginia over a $50 pair of Nike sneakers.
Sumo wrestling legend and Ginandtacos.com endorser Musashima says:
"As a child in Japan, my dreams of being a famous sumo Rashiki were limited by my healthy, slender physique. Then, one day, Ginandtacos.com introduced me to a magical food from the lands of the west: the Taco. By designing every meal around the Gordita, Iassured my body of getting the 1,000+ grams of saturated fat I would need to become morbidly obese. The results speak for themselves: my pant size went from a Kate-Moss-like 28 waist to an ass-busting 96! Thanks to Ginandtacos.com, I haven't seen my feet or genitals in months and I now receive medical care froma bovine veterinarian! Best of all, my belly's still growing! Thanks,Ginandtacos.com!
(Musashima was compensated for his endorsement with 100 Enchiritos, a drum of melted hog fat, and a live, adult male ox, all of which he immediately consumed without swallowing or pausing to breathe)
Consult the Ginandtacos.com Taco Doctor
We found this taco-related poem on the internet a long time ago. We still haven't found out who wrote it:
Gin pioneer, Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire, and Ginandtacos.com endorser Sir Robert Burnett says:
"Two hundred years ago, I had a dream…..to brew a beverage that was 44% alcohol and affordable to those who need it most: the working class and liberal arts graduates. That dream was culminated the first time I poured water, rancid pine needles, and rotting sugar into my bathtub to create the the first batch of Sir Robert Burnett's Super-Premium Fancy London Dry Gin. Ed, Mike, and Erik are my spiritual sons, carrying on my legacy by bringing cheap gin to the masses, where it belongs. Now if you'll excuse me, my liver is failing again."
(Sir Robert Burnett was compensated for his endorsement with the joy of watching Ed, Mike, and Erik slug down two liters of his creation)
Webster's dictionary defines gin as "a colorless alcoholic beverage made from distilled or redistilled neutral grain spirits flavored with juniper berries and aromatics (as anise and caraway seeds)" In reality, it is more than simple words can describe. It is the source of England's literary genius. It is the breakfast that brings Eastern Bloc athletes to newer and ever-greater heights. It is the inspiration for this fine webpage.
Wrong. Dead wrong. Only communists and pansies mix gin with anything. Gin is to be consumed straight, a state in which its medicinal properties are undiluted by other less purposeful liquids.
MYTH #2–"Gin tastes bad."
Don't make me smack you. Gin's robust yet willowy taste is only appreciated by a small elite. If you appreciate gin, you are on the top of the evolutionary ladder. You are fit for the most important and highest-paying jobs. If you think gin tastes like blowing a Christmas tree, you are missing a chromosome and will soon be eliminated by genetic herd-thinning. You are also a pussy.
MYTH #3–"I can handle gin so long as it's good gin."
Again, anyone who says this is to be regarded with extreme suspicion. The so called "fancy" gins, those whose snotty suburban attitudes make them feel like they are worth $40 a bottle, are the enemy of the true gin aficionado. We shall deal with these pretender gins in our gin review.
Yes, to alcohol–the cause of and solution to all of life's problems. You're saying, "I know what alcohol is. I know how to drink. And I know how to drink a lot and get drunk. What can Ginandtacos.com possibly tell me about booze?"
Well listen, you know-it-all little shit. If you don't want our help, go fuck an inflatible sheep. If you want to learn about how you've been abusing alcohol all wrong your entire life and want to learn how to maximize its brain-numbing powers, read on. Ungrateful bastard.
If you happen to live in Champaign, Illinois or are remotely curious what life here is like, take a look at this page. Although I am fairly certain there are a lot of things to do in this city, mostly people just consume booze.
Our patron saint, Sir Robert Burnett of Shaftsbury, was born in Newcastle-on-Tyne on the 17th of May, 1735. He was born out of wedlock, the product of a one-night-stand between Captain Morgan and Queen Mary II of Scotland.
As a young boy, Robert had little contact with either his sea-going father or his mother, who shunned him due to the circumstances of his birth. He was raised by a loosely-knit group of liberal arts students at the local university. By day, he watched his adoptive family slave away in lecture after lecture, only to graduate without any hope of landing a job. By night, he watched as they tried in vain to get drunk, limited by their poverty and the weak nature of the alcoholic beverages available at the time.
Robert wasn't good at sports or his studies. The girls didn't pay him much attention. Reading bored him. He couldn't hold a job. What Robert discovered, however, was that he had a burning passion to make cheap, fuck-you-up-quick booze with which to solve the problems of liberal arts students and manual laborers everywhere.
Robert's path to greatness was not paved with gold. A long process of trial and error preceeded the successful product for which history is in his debt. Some of his early liquors were too weak. Others were too delicate-tasting. Others were quite good, but would have been too expensive to sell cheaply.
Then, one day, the fortune smiled upon Robert. The heavens parted and sun shone down upon his brew. His latest concoction of water, rancid pine needles, and juniper berries came out perfect. It was 44% alcohol, enough to make even the most ornery bricklayer drunk, yet low-grade enough to be sold for $5 per bottle, which was within the price range of liberal arts majors.
Little Robert from Newcastle became a national hero. Soon he was no longer Bobby Burnett, failed moonshine manufacturer — he was Sir Robert Burnett of Shaftsbury, standard-beared of the working class.
Success never changed Sir Robert. Never once did he consider improving his gin's taste, increasing its price, or altering its alcohol content. While he moved to the regal land of Shaftsbury, he still ate tacos for dinner and sat around in his underwear. And even though he became a regular guest in the Royal Court at state occasions, he always showed up piss-drunk and underdressed.
Sir Robert died Jimi Hendrix-style on December 21, 1797, choking on his own vomit while plastered. It was a fitting end; he died just as he lived.
Few people take the time to recognize the importance of this great man. Sir Robert Burnett — a man without whom a psychology degree would be unattainable.