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Derelicts of Dub Dialect: Part II Reviewed by Momizat on . Editors Note: In the coming weeks, WarriorsWorld’s Jesse Taylor and Jordan Ramirez will be engaging in numerous topics, most pertaining to the Warriors, some no Editors Note: In the coming weeks, WarriorsWorld’s Jesse Taylor and Jordan Ramirez will be engaging in numerous topics, most pertaining to the Warriors, some no Rating: 0
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Derelicts of Dub Dialect: Part II

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Editors Note: In the coming weeks, WarriorsWorld’s Jesse Taylor and Jordan Ramirez will be engaging in numerous topics, most pertaining to the Warriors, some not so much. Jesse has been working within the NBA realms for decades while Jordan is in his first year as a credentialed media member. These conversations will be conducted in a back and forth format for your enjoyment (or disdain). 

Jordan: I figured since our first edition got read my millions of people and received thousands of comments, a second edition in the series was necessary. If I recall correctly you had a story (or stories) from your work during All-Star Weekend’s. Would you care to explain?

Jesse: Nice. We can finally appease the hundreds of thousands of requests flooding our inboxes for a part 2.

I have a few All Star stories, some from Oakland (2000) and some from Atlanta (2003). Let’s start in the ATL and the time my actions led to the birth of Blue Ivy Carter. Wait, does it nine months or nine years for a baby to be born? Months? Damn it.

Okay, so I had nothing to do with Baby Blue, but I did help Jay Z get into the VIP area of a club to meet up with Beyonce.

I was in the middle of pretty much the highest point of my life. As the PR guy for a Reebok/Jay Z-hosted All Star party, I was hanging out with Sway and Ed Lover in the bar area, talking rap music and watching J-Rich win the dunk contest. I grew up a die-hard Warriors fan listening to Sway on KMEL and watching Ed Lover on Yo! MTV Raps. If I die and go to heaven, I’ll pass through the pearly gates and walk right back into the middle of this conversation.

Sway and Ed Lover were the coolest, most down-to-earth guys ever, and they didn’t even make fun of me when I brought up my love for Mac Dre (unlike someone else I know). On the flip side, Danny Masterson and Wilmer Valderrama from That 70s Show showed up drunk and acted like pricks. Glad Yo Momma worked out so well for Fez.

So I’m talking “California Livin'” and “All Damn Day” as J-Rich hikes up his shorts and goes reverse between the legs when Destiny’s Child walks in. At that point, they were Beyonce and “what are their names again?”, but it was nice to see her sticking with her girls. They were led to VIP when I get a call from Jay Z’s publicist. His driver can’t find the club. With Beyonce already in, the place if fully packed beyond capacity. There a line to get in the club around the block and then some. Word is out that Jay Z is not far behind. It’s buzzing inside, and outside people are getting restless. In the days before GPS phones, me, Sway and Ed Lover are trying to give the publicist directions as I’m watching the dunk contest out of the corner of my eye. When she gets the driver back on track, she says that she’ll enter first so we can set up a path for Jay and his entourage to get into VIP.

They finally arrive, she comes in and we get security to part the Red VIP Sea. I’m watching the wall of people outside the door when Jay Z’s bodyguard, a bigger half-Hispanic-half-Samoan version of Suge Knight, crushes through the wall like The Refrigerator Perry in Super Bowl XX. A giant wave of people go flying out of the way. The Reebok photographer goes flying into the outdoor heat lamp, burning a whole through his jeans the size of his back pocket. Sparks flying from his ass, he’s still taking photos as Jay is bum-rushed through the crowd and into VIP. There he was reunited with the future Mrs. Carter, and the Def Jam publicist and I exchanged a high five and did the Ed Lover dance for a job well done.

Jordan: In essence, you were responsible for one of the most powerful couples in the world and the birth of Blue Ivy Carter. Not a bad All-Star Weekend story. And here I thought seeing Rick Ross and LeBron James share the stage for “Devil Is A Lie” at a GQ party couldn’t be topped. Sigh.

Of course, just experiencing second All-Star Weekend, I have some follow-up questions: did you meet Jay and/or Beyoncé? How did Beyoncé smell? What did Wilmer Valderrama do to get on your bad side? Who is Ed Lover? Finally, did Sway have the answers that night?

Jesse: The club smelled of sweat, mold and stale alcohol. When Beyoncé walked in, it was like fresh perfume soaked roses had been pumped through the air vents on full blast. Her hair gave me hay-fever. She glowed like a golden spotlight tracked her every move.

I never met Beyoncé, but just being in her presence is still 1,000 times more fulfilling than being best friends with someone like Miley Cyrus or Katy Perry.

I worked with Jay on several occasions and had some good conversations with him. It’s obvious why he is so successful and has lasted this long. Just a good smart dude. Although he did have an asshole on his staff that took care of the dirty work to make sure things were pushed through the way he wanted.

Do I need a reason with William Valderrama? Isn’t just coming into contact with him enough to be annoyed? Although, he and the curly haired 70s Show dude would be a good #TrueDetectiveSeason2 duo for Twitter.

Man, you don’t know Ed Lover? So much to learn young ‘un. Ed Lover may have been The Overweight Lover’s cousin but is not related to The Egyptian Lover. He also toured with Loverboy in the 80s and had a guest rap verse on “Turn Me Loose.”

Sway did not have the answers. He thought Richard Jefferson was going to win the dunk contest.

Let’s get to your stories. What can you say about All-Star that you couldn’t reveal on the podcast with Sheed?

Jordan: I can understand being in the presence of Beyoncé is 1,000 times more fulfilling than Miley Cyrus, but Katy Perry? Don’t disrespect the Santa Barbara girl please.

I still don’t know who Ed Lover is.

I’m typing this as I’m in class and can’t help but look like an idiot and laughing at the fact that Sway chose Richard Jefferson to win a dunk contest. Kanye was right.

Are you trying to get me in trouble? Friday night on Bourbon Street was a riot. I quickly learned that while Bourbon Street is one of the most desirable tourist destinations in the world, there is simply one goal in mind if you plan on taking a stroll through it at night: to get shitfaced drunk.

Now, I perused through Bourbon Street only after Sacramento Kings rookie Ben McLemore’s party was a total dud. Maybe it was because we showed up at midnight and not 2AM, but still.

Bourbon Street wasn’t a bad fallback option.

It was a total mess. This was my first time in NOLA, and what a weekend to pop my Bourbon Street cherry. It was a crowded, dirty, suffocating mosh pit that reeked of alcohol and fried chicken. Breasts aplenty, clothing optional and alcohol everywhere, I quickly figured out why this place was so popular.

I was left unscathed, although our first stop had me taking colored shots of some sort of alcohol out of a women’s chest and yelling at a Lakers fan thinking they have a brighter future than the Warriors. All in a days work.

After the Warriors disappointed on Saturday night, it was time to hit up the GQ party, which I was ridiculously unprepared for. My name was a late entry to “The List”, and I didn’t have anything but t-shirts, hoodies and plaid shirts. I knew I was probably going to be the worst dressed person in there, and maybe the youngest too.

Before the All-Star events on Saturday, I bought a button-up shirt from a random clothing store off Canal Street. Lo and behold did I learn that this store’s prices were equivalent to those of Santana Row and The Forum Shops at Caesars Palace. It was too late to return now, as I wasn’t going to miss the GQ party.

Funny enough, my buddy who was with me didn’t get on “The List”, and I was leaning towards not going because of my reluctance to go out anywhere by myself. Thankfully for both of us (he eventually got in), he quickly told me to smarten up and attend regardless: “How many more times are you going to be able to attend a GQ party?”.

Smart man.

This party was classy. A complete 180 from Bourbon Street, I was suddenly surrounded by important people not only within the NBA but fashion and entertainment as well. Instead of walking by a pile of steaming vomit like the night before, I was shoulder-to-shoulder with Skylar Diggins, LeBron James and James “Jimmy” Goldstein. Quite the turnaround from the previous night.

Also unlike Bourbon Street, the people attending the GQ party weren’t there to get plastered, but instead casually drink while enjoying fantastic musical acts (Miguel, Rick Ross and The Roots), discuss whatever it is may come to mind or simply sulk in their own status within society.

Sunday brought about my most incriminating night in NOLA. If you didn’t see my tweets that night, that’s probably a good thing and they’ve since been deleted. Since we were leaving on Tuesday, I felt the need to finally douse myself at an All-Star party. Our final party was to be hosted by John Wall and Taz Angels.

Yes.

I remember favoring the Taz Angels side of the establishment for most of the night, and I also remember tipping the bartender heavy on my first round so he’d remember that for my future rounds. He didn’t disappoint, and before I knew it was Monday morning and I was wearing the same exact clothes I was the previous night.

Finally, Monday night was spent throughout the French Quarter, hungover, exploring the real New Orleans (or so I was told). We checked out the casino for mere minutes, as losing three straights hands in Blackjack wasn’t what I had in mind when I stepped foot inside Harrah’s. We stopped and listened to some jazz — of course accompanied by some drinks and a hand grenade — and before long it was time to call it a trip.

Jesse: ”… had me taking colored shots of some sort of alcohol out of a women’s chest”

Does mean she shot it out of her nipples and fed you like a baby?

Also, it looks like the actions from Monday night were deleted like your tweets. Did you wake up like Bradley in Sublime’s “What Happened?”

 

What I’m I doing here

Who is this girl in my bed

What is this shit on my face

My God, what is that awful smell

 

She may be an angel

She may be a queen

She might be black, white, American, Indian or Japanese

What a perfect transition to the Steve Blake trade. I missed the Bulls game. Looks like he didn’t help much there. 

Jordan: Actually, she placed a small tube in between her breasts and it was my task to grab it with my mouth and drink it, all in one motion. I didn’t know this was what was necessary when I bought the cheap shot, but I didn’t disappoint.

Yes, I deleted the incriminating tweets from Sunday night/Monday morning later that day. You can find the videos on my Vine but the tweets are nowhere to be found. I suppose waking up to numerous mentions and texts asking  “Are you aright!?” and pleading for me to delete those tweets were more than enough.

The only Sublime song I know of is “Santeria” so bare with me if those lyrics didn’t ring a bell.

Anyways, consider yourself lucky that you missed that monstrosity of a game. The Warriors have had a lot of stinkers this season (losses vs. the Spurs #WhoSquad, Wizards, Timberwolves and Bobcats), but this felt especially rancid. Unlike in those games mentioned, the Warriors looked defeated throughout and really stood little chance for a comeback.

I loved the trade. Steve Blake was always one of those players that annoyed the hell out of me when we played him. He has always hit the timely bucket and plays like a pest out there on the floor. The fact he was on the Lakers only heightened these beliefs.

The Warriors gave up two players who were rotting on the end of the bench for a player that will contribute immediately (27 minutes against Chicago) and can spell Curry for however long the Warriors can survive with him on the bench.

#Bazemoring is gone, but #SavingCurryForThePlayoffing has now arrived. I wouldn’t be surprised if Blake hits a clutch jumper or two before the season is done either. If Kobe Bryant calls you a “psycho competitor,” you’re good by me.

By the way, has Steve Blake smiled yet? He’s looked miserable since he put on a Warriors uniform.

Jesse: Imagine if Steve Blake was on the Warriors when they did the “Happy” video. He would just stand still, staring into the camera like a mug shot. I think he’s always like that though, and can’t imagine he’s not happy with the trade from a basketball standpoint based on his overly competitive nature. And it’s ridiculous to worry about his post-trade tweet. He’s obviously a devout family man, so having to leave his wife and kids for long periods of time through April/May is going to be tough on him.

Bulls game notwithstanding, he’s a great addition. Clutch shooter, knows the game and when/where to get teammates the ball, tough defender, and keeps the ball moving. He will make the Warriors better. Kent Bazemore will get minutes and have a better chance at success with the Lakers playing off the ball. With Klay, Barnes, Iguodala, Green and then Crawford at the 2 and 3 positions, Bazemore’s only shot at minutes was back-up point guard and that is not his game at all.

So, should we wrap this shit up, B?

Jordan: 

About The Author

Jordan Ramirez

Jordan Ramirez is a 22 year-old Bay Area resident with a love for basketball and an obsession for everything worth obsessing over. Growing up and residing in San Jose, the Warriors have brought both tears of joy and sadness to his life (mostly the latter). When he's not sharing his thoughts on music, movies, pop culture and Kanye West you can find him writing for WarriorsWorld and hosting the WarriorsWorld podcast. Follow him on Twitter (@JRAM_91), IG: (JRAM_91) and e-mail him at (jordan@warriorsworld.net).

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