Today, I have no firsthand experiences to speak of, so I'm going to turn the wheel over to ... Michael Douglas, star of firecracker Hollywood classics Romancing the Stone and Disclosure.
Yo Kansas City,
Michael Douglas here. I've been watching your hip-hop scene and comparing it with what's going on in the Bay Area, and I have one word for you to carve on the inside of your thigh with a shard of a pig rib dug from the bottom of your mama's three-week-old garbage pile (aka, her bed): HYPHY. What is "hyphy," you ask? Multiple chizzoice, biatch:
B. The lost "krumpin' nekkid" scene from Fatal Attraction, remixed by Keak.
C. Bootyvote.com (not safe for your lame-ass office).
D. A Bay Area music movement that white people in Kansas City couldn't understand even if they taught adult-ed classes on it at National Numbskull Finishing School.
E. The lost "me-kicking-Toby-McGuire's-ass-for-being-a-pussy" scene from Wonder Boys, which ends with me high-fiving Too $hort.
If you answered C, then, yeah, that's the answer. Good job, dipshit. Now clean yourself up and go to a goddamn blues club or trailer park jamboree or what-the-fuck-ever.
If you answered anything else, then there may be hope for you and your pathetic scene.
That's all. Mike D. out. Save the ducks, motherfucker.