Herbert Kornfeld R.I.P. Or, um, I pour a 40 on the ground, or something....
From his last column:
Shitload o' turnovah in tha hizzy, too. Peeps used 2 make a career o' this place; ain't that way no moe. I no soona done sexin' up a Cash Room bitch than some new big-hair ho take her place.
Ain't it the truth....
eta:
Daddy H still in full effect, y'all. Tha bling, tha fame, an' tha bitchez keep flowin' in, but that shit ain't what matta. They ain't what kept me in tha game foe so long when so many o' my A.R. bruthahs never got promoted, or got hooked on Sharpies, or gave up on tha reeceevin' an' went into tax preparin' or auditin' or some other pitiful shit.
No, it wuz always 'bout tha numbahs. Tha numbahs. An' this Stone-Col' Funkee-Fresh Mack Daddy Supastar Enforca O' Midstate Office Supply will be crunchin' 'em an' balancin' 'em 2 tha grave. Much luv 2 ya, mah G's. H-Dog OUT. Peace.
sniff....